We Became Brothers
by Casey2y5
Summary: Sam Campbell put out an ad to get a couple of roommates to help with the rent. Two people respond- Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak. They move in, and bring their baggage with them. It's a rocky start, but eventually the stoner, jock, and apparent rebel learn to get along and share their lives. College AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine- its Kripke and Co.'s. I just like playing with them.**

Sam Campbell stared listlessly at the screen of his laptop. He put signs up seeking two roommates for his four bedroom apartment, three weeks ago. The fourth bedroom remained unoccupied by anything save a slowly dying houseplant, and the desk he was currently sitting at. His hopes were dwindling- why one Earth would someone respond to an ad seeking roommate who wouldn't ask questions. Hell, it sounded sketchy even to him, and he was the one who wrote the damn thing. He'd give it another twenty four hours. Even if one person responded it'd be a load off his shoulders. School was expensive, as were other things he preferred to keep around, and he needed less rent.

Absently, he lit up a joint. The cloying smoke filled his lungs, and he grinned, finally able to relax. It was among the more mellow things he'd experimented with since he was a teenager, and one of his favorites. He didn't have a problem, he knew that- maybe he'd overestimated his limits once or twice, but there was no cause for alarm; the occasional joint wasn't going to kill him. That's not what Amelia would say, he knew, but Amelia's opinion hadn't mattered, not for a very long time. She had made her choices, as had Kaylee, and there was no turning back now. It was four years ago anyway.

On occasion he played with the idea of letting his mind clear and always decided against it. He got enough unwanted comments about his intelligence when he managed to keep a perfectly respectable GPA when he didn't go to class half the time, and when he did show up he was usually high. He hated to think of what he actually might be capable of if he got out of his own way. He majored in astrophysics, because that's what smart people were supposed to do. Occasionally he would get crap for having a GED instead of a high school diploma, but the jokes usually stopped once he set the curve for the class. In all honesty he hated everything that had to do with it, but it was just about getting the degree at this point. He needed to prove that he could do it, without help, and with the choices he had made. He made his way across the hall to the messy bed and flopped down, legs hanging out over the edge. He was aware of the sound of his e-mail dinging in the other room, and again a few minutes later. Maybe he should get up and look at them; they could be potential roommates, but he wasn't too concerned right now, preferring to enjoy the floating feeling. The only bad thing about his need for roommates would be keeping his habits relatively quiet. He drifted off, content to be as he was.

As luck would have it, Sam's decision to wait another twenty-four hours was exactly what needed to happen. The next morning he scrolled aimlessly through the mountains of event reminders for events he would never attend, a few e-mails from professors, Facebook notifications, and assorted junk. There were two emails that caught his eye- one headed Response to Call for Roommates, and the other headed Saw You Needed a Roommate. He opened the first one and read:

Mr. Campbell-

I saw your sign seeking roommates. I am in need of an apartment, and would like to meet with you to discuss the details. I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Castiel Novak

Sam shrugged. He seemed like a decent enough guy, if a bit stiff. He typed out:

Castiel-

Thanks for responding. I was getting ready to give up on it. Does tomorrow at noon, at the coffee shop on 3rd work for you?

Sam Campbell

He hit send, and opened the other email.

Sam-

I saw your signs for a roommate. If there's still a room available I'm in. Hope to hear from you soon.

Dean Winchester

He opened the response window.

Dean-

Thanks for responding. I'm meeting with the only other response tomorrow at noon at the coffee shop on 3rd. You're welcome to join us.

Sam Campbell

He sent that message too, and sat back and waited for a response. He grinned when there was an almost instantaneous email from Castiel.

Hello Sam-

I am definitely willing to meet with you. I will see you tomorrow.

Castiel

It seemed like this would all go smoothly, and for that Sam was glad.

Dean had typed out the email hastily, almost on impulse. His one bedroom apartment was cramped, uncomfortable, and he really couldn't have the kids over and have enough space for them to do their thing. Not that they were allowed over, but he always found himself hoping, that maybe this time. Living with roommates isn't idea, especially with his awkward situation, but he knows with the lease on his apartment coming up quickly it's probably his best option. He internally groans, but it seems at least like this Sam guy has his own skeletons. That's honestly how he likes it, a minimum of questions.

There's a lot in his life that he just can't explain away. His mother, Mary, left just after Balthazar was born six years ago. The last thing she did was name him. He had been fourteen then, and his older brother, Henry, sixteen. John had always been a drinker, but after Mary left it got worse. Henry had fought with John, saying that he needed to get help, that it wasn't good for the kids to grow up like that, like they would be taken away. When Dean was sixteen John told Henry to get out and not come back. He did, and Dean hadn't heard from his older brother since. He hadn't had much time to worry about it anyway since the responsibility of keeping a roof over the heads of Balthazar, and Anna, two years older than the baby, fell on him.

John tried, but never managed to hold down a job. Dean took what work he could, doing odd jobs, and had a fairly steady gig at the garage a family friend, Bobby, owned. He managed, but it wasn't easy. He would've dropped out if it hadn't been for Bobby riding his ass. It didn't help that that same year social services finally had enough, and took Balthazar and Anna to a foster home. He had just managed to get visitation rights, and he accepted it. He refused to go to foster care, and became an emancipated minor. Bobby was kind enough to lend Dean his couch as often as he needed it, and money was tight even after selling the house. He was still responsible for keeping the rent of John's small apartment paid for; once in a while John would manage to make a payment himself, but generally Dean forked over the money. Bobby had been there when he graduated, and he had had the rare opportunity to see Anna and Balthazar.

He was always grateful for those moments. He wasn't Henry, he didn't run away. If there was anything he had learned it was that family was the most important thing he had, and he wasn't going to just abandon Anna, and Balthazar to be raised by strangers. Bobby had insisted he went to college, so he went. He had no urge to do so; his one love was cars, and he would perfectly content spending the rest of his life working on them. It was only his respect for Bobby, and the kindness he had shown to him that made him go. He majored in mechanical engineering, not out of any particular love for the discipline but because at least it meant he'd eventually be able to work with motors. He still worked at Bobby's garage, and occasionally bartended at his wife's bar. He barely made enough to pay the tuition not covered by scholarships, his own bills, and his father's. The place he was looking at had lower rent, and that meant more money to go around. It wouldn't be like high school where every month was a struggle.

Things had never been easy. He knew that's just how it was, and that was the hand that had been dealt to him. He accepted it. He tried to keep his life quiet, simple. The less noise he made the better the chances were of him getting custody of his siblings. There was no point to the rest of it. He didn't worry about himself that much, he didn't need to. He kept a roof over his head and food in his belly. That was all he really needed. He hated the coffee shop on 3rd, but figured it would be a good idea to at least meet the guy, and apparently another interested person before he fully committed to living with them for at least the next year.

Castiel's motives for moving in with Sam were simpler than Dean's, or even Sam's motives for putting up the appeal in the first place. His lease was up, and he was tired of his neighbors' loud, wall banging sex. He was reasonably certain he might have had a class his freshman year with the guy. It was some sort of required speaking class, and he remembered that the guy didn't say much, but when he did it was generally a crazy kind of brilliant. He had made more than his share of mistakes in high school, and when his senior year his parents had announced they were getting a divorce he had barley flinched. As it turns out the process was long and drawn out, and now, two years later, they were finally getting it finalized. It had torn his family apart. He had never been incredibly close to them, but had enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner as much as the next guy. He talked to his mother once a month or so, usually she called to ask if he wanted one thing or another as she began to destroy all of the things his father had left in the house. He hadn't talked to his father for the better part of a year. He did text his older brother Gabriel fairly regularly, but hadn't seen him in about two years. His job was something that involved pretty intensive travel, and he rarely touched down in the area for longer than it took to get on his next flight.

He hoped that new space would allow him to get his life together. He still wondered why he majored in English, but once he managed to actually read the stuff he enjoyed analyzing it. It was better than anything involving math at any rate. The dyslexia served as more of an annoyance than a hindrance, but dyscalculia, at least for him was a whole other ball game. He planned to take his final math class, statistics, this semester. He managed academically, fairly well for the most part. Personally, he had made some pretty questionable choices lately, which had culminated in a one night stand with his high school girlfriend, Meg, a few months ago. She had been the girlfriend that he had sworn he never even wanted to see again, and her place in his life gave her a permanent marker on the crazy side of the hot-crazy scale.

He was glad that his e-mail had been responded to quickly, and happily agreed to meet with the man. Cas shrugged into his coat, and headed for the door. The place on 3rd was a walk, and made him wish he had a car. He made it there eventually though, and walked in. There was a tall, dark haired man sitting at a table, and had looked up when he came in; next to him was a slightly shorter man, who seemed less concerned with finding whoever it was they were waiting for. He guessed that this would be Sam.

"Sam Campbell?"

"Yeah. You must be Castiel."

"Yes." Cas shook the proffered hand, before turning his attention to the other man.

"And you are?"

"Dean Winchester." The handshake from Dean was less warm. Cas sensed this was a man who you didn't cross.

"Castiel Novak."

"Nice to meet you." Cas went to get coffee, and as soon as he sat back down Sam started talking.

"So, you two were the only ones who responded to a call for two bedrooms, so this isn't like an interview or anything."

"Right."

"I figured we'll all be living together for a while, so we may as well meet before moving in together. So majors? Mine is astrophysics, sophomore."

"Mechanical engineering, sophomore."

"English, junior, just technically." They chatted a bit more about habits like drinking, the hours they kept, preferred level of cleanliness, fairly typical things that suddenly became very important when you were about to move into someone. It was a bit stilted, but they didn't have to be friends, just tolerate each other. They managed to set a schedule for things like cleaning and grocery shopping, as well as personal boundaries, which Sam and Dean needed a lot of. Castiel shrugged it off- he didn't have a problem with it if they had their secrets.

"So when are your leases up?"

"Ten days." Cas was grateful he had less than two weeks left with neighbors who he suspected were actually rabbits.

"The same."

"So are you going to move in?" They both nodded.

"I'll expect you in eleven days then." The men exchanged phone numbers in case something came up in the next week, and agreed to move in the Saturday after their leases expired. After saying their goodbyes they went to live their lives, as they knew them, for a few more days.

**A/N: Welcome to a new college AU. I hope you enjoy, and whether you did or not please R/R.**


	2. Chapter 2

Dean throws random things into boxes. This apartment had come furnished, and as it turned out he didn't own all that much- a mish-mash of cutlery, cups, plates and bowls collected from various garage sales and thrift stores, a few pots and pans, clothes and toiletries, a few movies, almost nothing of real value. Usually he didn't think much of it, he was naturally a minimalist, and his financial situation had only exasperated the tendency, but he always got an odd feeling in his stomach about it when he moved. He felt like he was twenty years old, had been living on his own for basically four years and had nothing to show for it. He knew there would be no judgment from his new roommates, not that he would have cared if they had, but he worried that it would raise questions he didn't want to answer. His most valuable possessions were a photo of his mother, holding Balthazar, with Anna at her feet, taken a few days before she had left, and his father's old leather jacket. It had scared people in high school, made them think he was some kind of rebel when in reality it was warm, and was the best jacket in the house. He wore it when John was passed out on the couch, and didn't seem likely to move to the kitchen to get another drink let alone manage to get somewhere that would require wearing a coat.

The place he lived in was adequate, for the amount of time he spent there. It was mostly sleep, and the occasional meal. It was tiny, and in his opinion had been way too expensive, although he was paying double rent. He wouldn't be sad to see it go. He had learned after he sold the house that there was no point in getting attached to places he lived. That house still haunted his nightmares- realizing that his mom was gone, the final fight that sent Henry packing, the scene when they had taken Anna and Balthazar, when he packed his Dad up to go to the court hearing to get himself emancipated- the memories, at least the vast majority weren't pleasant. He still got angry, sometimes. It had gotten better after a few months at Bobby's, but the kind of rage he felt, towards the circumstances he had been given, for his powerlessness to stop them never went away. He took the boxes down to his car. It had come into Bobby's shop when he was seventeen, a bruised, battered mess, and the owner didn't want her anymore. He had bought the '67 Chevy Impala for two hundred dollars and spent a year restoring her to her original glory. It was his pride and joy, and he had lived out of it more than once.

"We're headed to a new place, baby," he said as he ran his over her roof and got in.

Castiel's move was more complicated. He hated moving, and he wasn't sure why. As a child he had always stayed in the same house. He had lived in three different apartments in two years now and he wasn't sure why he still hadn't managed to get into a rhythm when it came to packing. There were clothes, notebooks, sports equipment, and novels spread everywhere as he fought to get all his bedding into one box. He could have sworn he had packed half the stuff currently littering the floor the day before. He had linens. Why the hell did he have goddamn linens? He changed his sheets once a month and usually put the same one back on. Finally he looked around, and saw that he had way too much stuff to fit to Sam's relatively large apartment. Even with Sam promising to carve them out their own space in each of the common areas it just wasn't going to happen.

He resorted to the old standby his mother had forced him to do as a child with his old toys. He began piling his stuff into charity, throw away and keep piles. He was supposed to be moving tomorrow afternoon, and he had no idea how he was going to manage it. All he had was the aforementioned pile of stuff, and a stack of boxes; he wasn't even sure if he had tape and a marker at this point. Eventually he managed to sort through all of the stuff in his bedroom. He tossed the items, mostly clothing and knick knacks he had wanted to save from his mother's frenzy after the divorce into trash bags, to take to Goodwill later. He began rooting around in the area that doubled as an office and living room for masking tape and some form of marker. Eventually he had to sigh in defeat. He grabbed the bags and tossed them in back of his car, figuring he may as well stop on the way to the store.

Cas hated the office supply store in town; it was almost as bad as the bookstore when it came to price gouging but it was right next to the Goodwill, and he didn't see the point in driving across town to Wal-Mart. After dropping the bags off to the exasperated, overworked volunteers he went into the store, and made a beeline for the markers. He selected an off brand permanent marker that was apparently on sale for sixty-seven cents, and began the hunt for the masking tape. He was so engrossed in looking at the aisle markers wondering in just what random spot they managed to hide the tape that he didn't notice the curly haired brunette engrossed in a similar task. He glanced at her just as he walked straight into her. She yelped, and he jumped, managing to grab her before she crashed into a display of crayons.

"Shit. I'm so sorry."

"It was my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going." She grinned up at him, looking like she liked what she was seeing.

"I wasn't either. I suppose it's both our faults." Castiel shrugged lamely and realized he was still holding on to her. He let go, and allowed her to take a step back to put a more respectable distance between them.

"Yes it is. I'm Amelia."

"Castiel."

"I don't suppose I could offer to buy you some coffee?"

"You could, but I would, much to my dismay, have to decline." Castiel groaned internally. This was the universe making a peace offering, and he had to deny it. He really hated his sense of responsibility sometimes, but he knew that moving should take precedence.

"That would be unfortunate. I won't offer then."

"I would say yes if I wasn't in the process of moving."

"That's understandable then."

"Are you a student?"

"I'll be starting this semester."

"I'll see you around campus then I hope." Cas grinned at her, and sidestepped to go to the next aisle. The encounter made his day a little better and more so when he found the tape. He was curious about the woman, but figured he wouldn't see her again. It was a big campus, and he hadn't even asked what she planned to major in.

He managed to get back to his apartment, and get the moving boxes put back together and labeled before his phone began insistently ringing on the nightstand. He picked it up, and answered.

"Hi Mom."

"Hi, dear."

"What's going on?"

"I found some of your old toys in the attic. If you want them I'll hold on to them until spring for you."

"I'm just getting ready to move and my new place will have less space. You can just donate them."

"Alright. Do you happen to know when Gabriel will start answering his phone again? It seems like it's never on."

"You know he travels a lot, and no I don't. I can't keep track of him, any more than he can."

"Alright, dear. That's the whole reason I called."

"Right, well, I'll talk to you later."

"Yes, of course. Goodbye." Cas hung the phone up, his mood dissipated, and he once again began chucking stuff violently into boxes. This was a fairly typical conversation with his mother, and it always left him irritated. She was desperately scrubbing the house in an attempt to remove all the remaining traces of his father, and had been for about three years. Her mission apparently also included getting rid of all traces of her children. She was always trying to hoist something onto him that he didn't have room for, and then demand to know where Gabe was. Throughout the time he had been in college he had gotten more and more frustrated with her, and last year had called her out on her need to eliminate everything reminding her of her ex-husband- including her children. Any warmth had dissipated out of the relationship at that point, and now she only called to ask after Gabe and pass off useless items.

By the end of the night Castiel was surprised by how much of his apartment he had managed to pack up. He felt accomplished, and decided that the rest of the kitchen could just wait until tomorrow. He fell asleep to thoughts of Amelia, the girl from the office supply store.

The morning his new roommates were supposed to arrive Sam found himself cleaning. He didn't know why. Initially he had figured they were going to be living with him, so they may as well know how he lived from the get-go. In part, he supposed it was because he was bored, and when he was bored he cleaned. He also found himself moving stashes of various drugs to his room as he found them. There were a few he didn't remember hiding, and wondered vaguely how old they were. By noon he figured he had got them all, or else they were so well hidden that they would never be found again. He had the tendency to play tricks on himself when he was high sometimes. As he waited for Dean and Cas to show up with their first load of stuff, he allowed his thoughts to drift to Amelia.

It wasn't something he found himself doing very often anymore, and when he did he usually didn't allow it to continue. There was too much history there for him to allow himself to dwell on it. He wondered what she was doing- if she was still in Europe. She had disappeared after their senior year, apparently trying to find herself. He knew it hadn't been easier on her after he dropped out, that high school wasn't kind, but at the time at least he hadn't been able to bring himself to care about her. Not after what happened with Kaylee, not after what she knew, and hadn't told him. Then she had the audacity to turn around and tell him he was making mistake as he got deeper into the drugs he had been dabbling in for a few years. As time had passed he found himself not hating her for it anymore, actually missing her. He knew she would never see her again, but still he missed her. He shoved the thoughts aside, and sprayed some more Pledge onto the rag.

Eventually he heard a muffled knock on the door. He went to open it, and laughed at the pile of boxes he was currently faced with. He could see the outline of a leather jacket, and assumed it was Dean.

"You could grab a box you know."

"I could, but then you think I may actually be nice to you." He took a box anyway.

"You're a sweetheart."

"How many more trips do you have?" Dean looked at him, confused.

"Dude, this is it."

"You own four boxes worth of stuff?"

"Yeah."

"Like not even furniture?"

"You said this place came furnished, and so did my last place, so no."

"Right. Come on, seriously I'll even help you move it in."

"That's really it. Ok?" A look of understanding crossed Sam's face. He realized there was still a lot he didn't know about the men who were moving in with him, and that any sort of roommate situation couldn't be strictly no strings attached. You had to know something about the people who you were living with, even if you only talked to them when they paid the rent. They carried the small pile of boxes to the room Dean would be occupying, and Sam left him to get unpacked, and settled. It didn't take long for Dean to come out carrying one of the boxes.

"Hey, where do you want the cutlery and stuff?"

"Just open the cabinets, you'll find the stuff. There's not much of it."

"When is Cas supposed to get here?"

"Cas?"

"Castiel Novak. That's his name right? The other guy?"

"When he gets here I guess."

"Right." Dean got the sense that Sam was very much a go with it kind of guy. He certainly seemed casual, as he lounged on the couch, picking absently at the sleeve of his worn hoodie. He began piling dishes into the cupboard.

"So how's astrophysics?"

"Still standing I'd imagine. I took the week off."

"The week?" Dean wasn't opposed to taking the occasional day off. He had done it often enough in high school, even though it was usually to work.

"Yeah." He concluded that Sam was a mystery he wouldn't be able to solve anytime soon, and that it would be best to just let be. He sensed that prying would be an excellent way to get kicked out. He was thankful when a low knock sounded on the door. Sam heaved himself off the couch, and pulled the door open with surprising grace. Castiel was carrying substantially fewer boxes than Dean had, and had several more to bring up. Dean finished stacking the last of the glasses, and folded the box up.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Right, first door on the left is your place." Cas went over, and deposited the boxes on the floor before reemerging.

"You need some help getting your stuff up?"

"That would be lovely, if you aren't busy settling in yourself." Cas had a formal way of speaking that Dean found vaguely off-putting. He supposed he would get used to it, and he got the sense that Castiel had been raised in a very different environment than he had.

"Yeah, not a problem." Dean wandered down the hall with Castiel, the baggie he had found in the cabinet weighting heavily on his mind. He needed to say something about it- it wasn't fair that he didn't know. They got into the elevator, and Cas was surprised by how comfortable he was with the silence.

"Hey Cas?"

"Cas?"

"Do you have a problem with it?"

"No, it's just, unusual for people to address me by a nickname."

"Alright then. Cas it is."

"What were you going to say?"

"I found a baggie of… stuff in the cabinet when I was putting dishes away."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah. Like drugs. Heroin I think."

"Oh. That is problematic."

"Yeah. I mean should we say something."

"Yes. Perhaps it is not his?"

"Yeah. Right. It's just I'm not the best situation to be living with a drug dealer or something."

"I don't think that anyone is ever in a good situation if they live with a drug dealer."

"Yeah right." He was surprised by Cas' bluntness. He was kept just a little off his game, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. The comment did make him curious about Castiel's past, about why he was moving to this situation. He got the feeling that it wasn't for the same financial constraints he had. They reached Cas' car, and pulled boxes out.

"You have a lot of stuff."

"Most of it mostly duplicates of things I imagine Sam already has. There are also several records. Once I determine what the household already has I imagine some things will go to Goodwill."

"Right." Dean suddenly had an uncomfortable pit settle into his stomach. He did most of his shopping at Goodwill- in fact not counting food, and things that couldn't be bought used he did all of his shopping at Goodwill. He'd never actually met someone who donated that stuff though. They carried the boxes back up, and returned to the car a few more times until all the boxes were in Castiel's room. They knew that it was time to mention what Dean had discovered.

"Hey Sammy?"

"It's Sam, and what?"

"We wished to speak to you." Sam quickly ran through his mind what they could want to talk to him about. He was uncertain, but the sinking feeling in his stomach told him that he wasn't going to like the conversation he was about to have.

"Yeah, alright. What's up?" Dean knew it was best to just get right to the point. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the bag. Sam's eyes flickered in recognition, and he felt his throat constrict.

"Oh. That."

"Yeah, that. Something you'd like to tell us?"

"I'm, uh, kind of a druggie. I haven't done that stuff in ages though."

"Right. It's just well, you have roommates now."

"It's not that big of a deal. I just light up on occasion, pop a few pills."

"Listen, if the wrong people found out about it, I could be in some serious shit."

"No one knows. Calm down. Like I said I keep it quiet."

"I am more concerned for your well-being."

"I'm fine. It's not a problem. I'll make sure everything is out of the shared living areas ok?"

"Fine." Dean wasn't happy, and it showed. Sam knew he was in deep, but figured that the other man would eventually forget about it. At least he hoped he would. Cas' concern was touching, in a way, but he was perfectly alright. He may have overestimated his tolerances once or twice, but he was ok. There wasn't a problem. He stood up, and walked to his room, shutting the door behind him. Dean and Castiel simply glanced at each other.

"I should go get moved in. I'll see you later, Dean." Dean was left standing there wondering what the hell he had managed to get himself into. He had a druggie, and apparently a misplaced time traveler for roommates. If the court found out about them, there was no way he would be able to get custody of his siblings.

**A/N: Well, here's this chapter. Not much to say besides I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope to hear from you either way.**


	3. Chapter 3

Cas was surprised by how easily time passed, how they fell into a routine without even thinking about it. He had expected an awkward transition period, as was apt to happen with new roommates, and yet, it never manifested itself. The closest they came to an awkward encounter was when they had confronted Sam about his drug use a few weeks previously. Now it just felt right. Of course he was the first one up, and always made the coffee on weekdays (even though Sam had gagged the first time he tried it and dumped half the bowl of sugar into his cup), and Dean always got the first shower when they got home because he worked at the garage and if they ran two at once they'd run out of hot water in two seconds flat, and Sam always made pancakes and bacon on Sunday morning while Dean squeezed orange juice. They fit into each other's lives. They all knew they each had their secrets, and that was perfectly fine. Cas had no interest in knowing the details of his roommates' lives- it was the unspoken clause of their roommate agreement.

It was a bright Saturday morning when he had his first real conversation with Dean- that didn't involve how the sports teams were doing or if they needed to buy more flour. He was sitting there, nursing his second cup of coffee, absently staring at the grain of the table. He had nowhere to be, and didn't particularly want to change out of his pajamas. He was thinking about Gabe and how maybe he should be able to get together with him for dinner the next time he was in town for a few hours. Dean walked into the kitchen, hair still sleep mussed, and rubbing his eyes. He went to the half empty coffee pot and poured himself a cup; he sniffed it cautiously, familiar with the unreliability of Cas' coffee making skills by now, and dumped in a few teaspoons of sugar.

"Sam here?"

"Don't think so." Although Sam had been incredibly consistent with making pancakes on Sunday mornings, they had only seen him home once on a Saturday morning- the day they had moved in. They knew better than to question where Sam ended up on his Friday nights. They had gone to the diner a few blocks over for breakfast the week before, and Cas was thinking that their Denver omelet was sounding good. Suddenly getting out of his pjs didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"Hey you want to head over to that diner? I'm feeling an omelet."

"Yeah sure. I just need to shower real quick." Cas grabbed a pair of track pants and a gray t-shirt, and did a pile of the dishes that had built up through the week while he waited for Dean to get out of the shower. Eventually Dean emerged, hair still wet, and walked in stuffing his wallet into his back pocket.

"Ready?"

"Yeah." They walked to the diner, chatting aimlessly about classes, and their plans for the week.

"I'll be headed to visit my siblings this weekend." Cas' thought process stilled for a moment, trying to take in the new information.

"You have siblings?"

"Yeah- Balthazar's six and Anna's eight." There was softness in Dean's voice he was unfamiliar with; he had assumed with the muscle car and leather jacket that he was hiding something darker than a couple of kids.

"Are you close to them?"

"As close as I can be. They were taken into foster care when I was sixteen. I fought for visitation rights as soon as I was emancipated. It took the damn court six months to grant them. I see them once a month for three hours. Their foster mom says they look forward to the visits though."

"Right. What are they like?"

"Anna is a little ball of energy. She loves unicorns and playing soccer. She never stops moving and will talk to anyone who'll listen. She wants to know about everything, how the world works." The waitress came and interrupted his soliloquy. Cas ordered his omelet and Dean, the French toast platter. "Balthazar is calmer. He's really shy, actually, but he can draw. I mean really draw- better than most adults. If you get him started on art he'll go on. He likes Picasso right now, but that'll probably change. He hates getting messy unless it involves getting paint everywhere. He can be a handful. I'm scared for when he finds out that Mom left right after he was born- if he'll blame himself you know." Cas nodded.

"Sorry, you probably don't want to be hearing about all of this."

"No, it's interesting. I mean, we really don't that much about each other. Do you have any other siblings?"

"Technically there's Henry. He's two years older than me, but he left as soon as he turned eighteen and never looked back."

"Right. You said your mom left, but what about your dad?"

"He drinks a lot. Has ever since she left. It's the reason the kids got taken away."

"Oh." The food arrived, and they set about eating in silence, while Cas processed the new information.

"What about your family? Oh, sorry." Cas held up a finger as he chewed through the bite he had put into his mouth as soon as Dean spoke. He briefly considered refusing to answer, then considered Dean's blunt honesty.

"There's my brother Gabriel. He travels a lot for work, and I don't see him that much. I should probably try to get together with him for dinner the next time he's in town."

"And your parents?"

"They went through a pretty nasty divorce my senior year- they were definitely staying together for the kids kind of thing. My dad has some pretty young thing down in Florida and we talk on birthdays and holidays. My mother, well, she's tried to clean everything out of her life that reminds her of him, and part of that has been her kids. I called her on it last year, and the relationship has been pretty rocky ever since. She calls when she has some random item she wants to foist onto me or to see what country Gabe is in."

"That sounds pretty rough."

"It's not that bad. It's not pretty, but it works for us. We were never the Brady Bunch."

"No one ever is."

"So, do we need to get flour?" Dean laughed at the pathetic attempt to get the conversation back onto safer ground, and just took a bite of his bacon.

"There's no going back after that one, Cas." The nickname still sounded weird in Castiel's ears, but he found himself growing more used to it.

"Have you read that poem yet?"

"The e.e. cummings one?"

"Yeah?"

"What'd you think?"

"I liked the line "nobody loses all the time."

"It's one of my favorite poems. I don't know why."

"It's funny until you actually think about it, then it's actually really depressing. I mean, a worm farm, come on." Cas munched on the last of his toast as Dean scraped up the remnants of the syrupy mess on his plate.

"That's disgusting you know."

"What is?" Dean pulled a face that said he knew exactly what Castiel was referring to, but instead chose to be stubborn.

"All that is right now is tree sap. There is absolutely nothing edible left on the plate."

"Syrup is plenty edible."

"You are disgusting and your obsession with syrup is disgusting." The banter was light and made Cas feel like he had found a friend in Dean that he wouldn't be letting go of quickly. Eventually Dean accepted he wouldn't be able to get anymore of the sticky goodness off his plate.

"You just have to deal with it again tomorrow."

"I'm stuck with it. Damn lease." They laughed and paid their bill, keeping up the banter on the walk home. A light drizzle had picked up, and Cas decided his hair was entirely too long to be practical. He resolved to get a haircut as they traipsed up the dark staircase.

"Hey, do you have your key?" A familiar sense of panic entered Cas' gut as he realized he didn't- the feeling of being locked out of his apartment never failed to terrify him.

"No. You don't?"

"I assumed you did."

"Maybe Sam is home?" Cas knew it was a long shot; they hadn't seen him home before one yet. He reached out and knocked anyway. Neither of them were surprised when the door remained unopened after a few moments and shrugged.

"I guess we call a locksmith?" Before Cas could answer the elevator dinged, and in a moment Cas would swear only happened in books Sam emerged.

"Hey, Sammy, you have your key?" Sam had quietly given up on getting Dean to call him Sam, despite the protests the first week or so.

"I figured you guys would be home. Where were you anyway?"

"We went to get breakfast. This idiot forgot the key."

"Yes, because you were so responsible." Cas snapped back. Calling him an idiot was touchy, at best, and even though he had no reason to tell them why but he found himself briefly hating Dean. In another universe he probably would have punched him, but he knew that so far as Dean was concerned it was a perfectly innocent comment.

"Well, if you two would quit bitching I could get us in." They both turned to look at Sam, incredulously.

"Thought you didn't have a key?"

"There are other ways to get through doors besides a key."

"Wait you mean?"

"Do either of you have a credit card?"

"Seriously, we're going to break into our own apartment?"

"It's either that or call a locksmith we can't afford." Dean glared, but fished through his wallet to find a plastic card, suitable to the task. He handed over, saying the magnetic strip better not get ruined.

"How do you know how to pick a lock anyway?" Cas asked, as Sam jimmied the card through the deadbolt and the door swung open. They walked in, and settled on the couch. Dean flipped absently through the record collection, wanting to hear something besides their voices.

"Just something I picked up. Got bored, surfed the internet, learned how to pick locks. Never thought I'd actually need to know how to do it."

"Seriously, who just picks up lock picking?" Dean picked a record, and carefully set it on his old turntable, one of the few things that had made it into the common area.

"Bon Jovi, Dean?" Cas groaned. He was more a modern alt kind of guy. Not really even more, he was a modern alt kind of guy- he didn't have patience for power chords and ballads, anything that characterized rock until grunge took over.

"Bon Jovi rocks." Dean turned and pointed at him as he said it, before flopping into the overstuffed arm chair that Sam had claimed until they had moved in, at which point Dean claimed it as his spot. Cas rolled his eyes, before angling his body back towards Sam.

"Anyway, Dean's poor taste in music aside," Dean made an indignant noise, "who does just pick up lock picking?" Sam glanced around the room, looking desperately for an escape that wouldn't look like an escape. There were some things they didn't need to know about him. Even though he rather liked them, more so than he had expected (mostly because they left things well enough alone), and even enjoyed spending time with them on occasion, they didn't need to know what went on in his life. They certainly didn't need to know he was intelligent. That the only reason he hadn't flunked out of school was because he didn't need to look at his books more than once, and that he could care less about the field of astrophysics. He needed to be able to keep that to himself.

"Apparently, I do."

"Seriously, man. There has to be a story there." Sam knew there was no way around it. He was still holding out hope that maybe, just maybe he'd be able to get away with just mentioning the memory thing. He knew better, was all too familiar with the questions that it led too. He found himself wishing he could light a joint. He figured it wouldn't hurt to ask (generally, he found, it was best to ask before using illicit drugs in the presence of others) - not if it would get him through this conversation. They were the kind of guys he wouldn't mind sharing a joint with anyway, something he rarely did anymore- smoke socially.

"Hey you guys want to share a joint?" Judging from the looks he got from his apparently random question Sam wondered if the question would be enough to derail the topic entirely. Castiel's eyes had gone wider than he thought was humanly possible, and Dean appeared to be startled by the suggestion. After a few seconds of everyone looking, and feeling like a deer in the headlights Dean shrugged.

"Why the hell not? I haven't done anything stupid in- well, I don't think I've ever done anything stupid. You still have to tell us though."

"Yeah, right. Cas, buddy, you ok?"

"Yeah, I've just never, you know, smoked."

"Are you objecting?"

"I want to try it, it's just I don't know what I'm doing." Sam had fished around during their conversation for the baggie he had gotten last night, and went about rolling the joint. He remembered how nervous he'd been when he had his first joint; that had faded quickly, of course, but he definitely sympathized. He glanced at Dean, who looked decidedly more nonchalant about the whole thing and he remembered the pack of cigarettes that sat on his dresser. He realized, almost belatedly, that Dean had a lot he wasn't sharing, that his past had more things and was more complex than he probably wanted to know about.

"Sam maybe you should shotgun him his first hit." Cas looked like he was about to vomit he was so nervous.

"Yeah, probably for the best. Get him mellowed out." Sam rolled a tip into the joint, and dug around the drawer in the end table to find a lighter.

"Is anyone going to ask him about this?" Cas chimed up.

"Nope." Sam passed the joint and lighter to Dean, allowing him the first hit. Dean lit it and took a drag. He coughed as he exhaled.

"That is some good stuff."

"I know." Cas sat there, tentatively preparing. Dean passed Sam the materials.

"Get over here, Cas." Cas came over, and perched on the arm of Sam's chair.

"So uh, what do I do?"

"Just hold on a sec," he re-lit the joint and glanced at Cas, "Open up." He took a drag, and leaned up mouth open. He got within two inches of Cas' face before Cas startled and jumped back.

"What the hell are you doing, dude?"

"Shotgunning you your first hit."

"Oh," Cas picked himself up off the floor, and returned to the arm of the chair.

"Ready?"

"Yeah." Sam pulled a long drag off of the joint, and leaned in. Cas met him halfway, tentatively opening his mouth to receive the smoke. Sam let out the smoke, centimeters away from his roommate's lips. Cas pulled away, and choked coughing the smoke out.

"Easy, Cas."

"People do this for fun?"

"Wait for it," Sam said as he passed it to Dean. The pleasant tinglings of floating were itching at the corners of his mind already.

"Alright, Sammy, spill." Dean said it as he carefully relit the joint, and puckered his lips around it.

"I'm smart ok, like scary smart." There was almost no reaction to his revelation. Dean had been showing Cas how to hold the stub of the joint without singing his fingers.

"A lotta people are smart." Sam could tell from Cas' words, not slurred, but more casual then he had ever heard him speak that he was probably going to be a lightweight.

"They forced me into gifted programs when I was a kid- something about an IQ of about 132. I have a memory that's eidetic, but well, it's close." Sam took the joint from Cas, and took his first proper hit of the day.

"So, you just don't care? I mean if I had that kind of intelligence-"

"Exactly. If you did. I'm the one that's stuck with it- that has to deal with it. I've heard that same bullcrap my entire life."

"Sorry."

"It's fine. It's just a touchy subject. When I dropped out no one knew why- I was only failing because I didn't do the work. Eventually, I got my GED, ended up here." The room stayed quiet for several moments, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

"This is it isn't it? What we're stuck with?"

"He's getting philosophical."

"Yeah, just let him be." Eventually they floated off to their own rooms, content, and thinking about information as it had been revealed.

**A/N: Hey all. There's going to be about another chapter of exposition and then the plot is going to start coming in heavy, so get ready for that!**


	4. Chapter 4

It was the Thursday after the weekend they had broken into their apartment and shared a joint. Cas had sworn up and down he would never smoke weed again after he woke up at ten on Sunday morning to the worst headache of his life. The pancakes had been good though. He was standing in the kitchen making himself lunch to take back to campus before his afternoon classes when Sam stumbled in blearily, dressed in boxers, and obviously having just woken up. The controlling part of Cas was slightly annoyed by his roommate's decisions regarding his academic life, but he bit his tongue knowing there was nothing that could be done about it.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty." Sam grumbled something incoherent that Cas was fairly certain was intended to be an insult to his masculinity. He poured himself a cup of coffee, groggily taking a sip, before spitting the brew into the sink.

"You made the coffee."

"Don't sound so surprised. It's Thursday."

"Its cold, which really just makes the sludge you call coffee that much worse."

"Of course it's cold. Some of us leave here at 8. That sludge is what you call coffee, not the brown water you drink."

"Yeah, yeah." He proceeded to dump half the sugar bowl into the coffee as per usual, before going to the fridge and sniffing the milk, knowing full well no one had been shopping in the week previous. He wrinkled his nose, before deeming it undrinkable, and putting it back in the fridge.

"If it's gone bad throw it out." Cas hadn't turned around and somehow still sensed the problem.

"You are worse than my mother, you know."

"Oh, I know. Now throw it away." Sam stood milk in hand, debating putting it back in the fridge to annoy his roommate. However, he decided that Cas' momentary irritation was not worth the shopping he would be forced to do later. Cas smiled to himself- sometimes he wondered just how much of a mess the place would be if he didn't live with them. Sam tossed the carton in the trash, before popping the cup in the microwave and reopening the fridge to scrounge for leftovers.

"Cas," It came out whiny, and Castiel found himself wondering why Sam was behaving like an incessant five year old. He put it off to the lack of caffeine, and turned to glare at his tall roommate who was currently looking at him with puppy eyes.

"Sam." It was short and curt. He knew full well Sam was about to ask for something he probably didn't want to give.

"Can you make me a sandwich?"

"No. You are a grown man. Make your own damn food."

"But Cas."

"You're making dinner tonight then."

"Fine." He pouted, and then realized he could just make baked mac and cheese and call it dinner. They knew it was a bit unorthodox, but it had been decided that making dinner for all three of them, when they split the groceries anyway, made more sense than each of them making their own separate dinners. Sam had a particular knack for pastas (and pancakes), while Cas preferred traditional meat and potatoes, meat loaf and tuna casserole kind of meals, and Dean, shockingly, was the best cook of them all, favoring Asian food or complex gourmet meals. It had become a running gag that if one of them would learn to bake they could have a restaurant with the best selection in town. They took turns cooking, for the most part, and despite their radically different schedules it seemed like at least of two of them made it into the kitchen on any given night (except for Wednesdays when Sam had the one lab he actually went to at five and Dean had work until seven) to actually cook, and usually even eat together.

Cas stuffed his ham sandwich into the Ziploc bag he had pulled out and grabbed a plate from the cabinet above his head. He plopped down two slices of bread, and grabbed the knife he had used for his own sandwich from the sink. As he returned to the assembly line he had created, his elbow knocked into the mayonnaise jar, spilling the contents across the floor.

"Idiot." Sam didn't look up from his spot at the table, where he nursed his re-heated coffee, when he uttered the insult.

"Lot of things, Sammy. Not an idiot." Cas was irritated, and the expression of that was the nickname, which as it turned out he only tolerated when it came from Dean. Cas however, had adopted the nickname as his own, deciding he far preferred the shortened version of his name to the usually difficult Castiel.

"It's Sam, Cas, and why so testy about idiot of all things?" These little questions had been popping up since Sam's big revelation, as they realized it may not be such a bad idea to get to know each other some more. They had rarely been intrusive, as they learned each other's favorite foods, preferred ways to wake up, favorite drinks (Dean preferred whisky, Sam beer, and Cas didn't usually drink), childhood pets. In some ways, Cas felt like he was in the beginning stages of a relationship with his roommates, as opposed to simply getting to know them. Sam, too, was shocked by how close he was getting with the people who, originally, were supposed to be there to just pay rent. He was, at least in theory, barely supposed to know their names, let alone that Dean hated getting up in the mornings, even though he did, and that his distaste for drugs was uncomfortably apparent despite his willingness with the joint that first time or that Cas made killer clam chowder and cared more about people than he had been sure was possible.

"Because of reasons I do not care to disclose." Sam stood to wet a paper towel, and help Cas clean up the mess, hoping it would soften him to the question.

"Reasons?"

"I don't like to talk about it."

"Well, we're talking about it, so may as well get it over with."

"I'm dyslexic."

"So?"

"Before I was diagnosed my brother and most of my classmates frequently referred to me as an idiot. Well, they did after the testing was complete too, however it was less ill-spirited."

"Right. I'll remember that. You have a brother?" Cas was shocked by how easily Sam, who was so smart, took the revelation. There were no uncomfortable questions about why he was an English major, or how he managed his course load. His biggest question was about his brothers. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised at this point, but Sam's caviler attitude towards just about everything never failed to amaze him.

"Yes. Gabriel. He's five years older than me."

"Right. What does he do?" Cas returned to his post making the sandwiches, as Sam finished wiping the last of the spilled mayo up.

"I'm not really sure. He doesn't talk about the details much, though he is frequently out of the country."

"So he's a spy?"

"I'm fairly certain that his job has something to do with finance." Sam barely spared a second glance for the words Cas had taken literally. His lack of understanding of sarcasm had been uncomfortable at first, given that it was his primary form of communication, but he eventually learned how to get his point across without earning a confused head tilt; eventually he even picked up on Cas' unique brand of dry humor, although he still couldn't quite bring himself to laugh at the things his roommate apparently found amusing.

"Right. Sarcasm, Cas."

"I was aware." Sam finished mopping up the spilled condiment as Cas finished the sandwich. He set it on a plate, along with hastily dumped chips, and passed it to Sam, as he stood up.

"Thanks, man."

"You're making dinner."

"Yeah. Get to class," Sam intoned, as he bit into his sandwich.

That Saturday Dean rose early, six-thirty, to make the three hour drive to his siblings by ten. He'd heard Sam come in about four, knocking into a table, cussing loudly and as he padded to the bathroom he heard him groan through his bedroom door. His heart went out to the man and the hangover he would be nursing, but he brought it upon himself. He left the bottle of aspirin, half open, next to a bottle of Gatorade on the bathroom counter anyway. He got himself dressed and left, making sure the door was locked behind him, knowing Cas wouldn't be up until at least nine.

He cursed traffic, other drivers and had to stop twice because the Impala kept making a noise he decided he'd just have to take a closer look at later. It was a drive he was accustomed to and never failed to frustrated by, but it was worth it. It always was when he pulled up, three minutes after ten, and Anna and Balthazar were waiting for him on the front step of their foster parent's house. He lifted himself out of the car and knelt down to capture them in a hug as they charged at him.

"Dean!"

"Dean!"

"Hey guys!" He got their squeaky voices in stereo, and couldn't help the smile as he stood up and they grabbed his hands, pulling him inside. Leah, their foster mother was standing in the foyer, clutching a cup of coffee, and he noted Steve, her husband, at the table, reading the paper. He grinned at Leah, unable to get out a proper greeting, as he was drug into the living room, where Balthazar had a pile of new art to show him. He sat and listened to the explanation of each piece.

"This is your new apartment I tried to draw it, but I don't know what it looks like, so I don't think I did a very good job." Dean inspected the piece and nodded.

"Not bad, kiddo. It's pretty close I don't know about the kitchen though." He had long since learned that honesty was the best policy when it came to Balthazar's art. He looked thoughtful for a moment, and Dean was surprised by just how striking the resemblance was to their mother.

"Can you show me what it looks like?"

"How about I text my roommate Cas, and see if he'll send a picture?"

"Ok. I'll get my stuff." As Balthazar raced off, and Dean hoped that Cas hadn't decided to sleep in, he turned his attention to Anna, still in her pajamas, hair knotted.

"What've you been up to, Anna? Besides not being ready yet?"

"I was excited to see you. School's been fun."

"Anna, sweetie," Leah interrupted, "Why don't you go finish getting ready." Dean could see the retort coming from a mile away. He sighed internally, part of him hating that he would always be half parent, half sibling to them.

"Anna," he intoned, darkening his voice. She ran off.

"Hi Dean."

"Hey Leah. How are you?"

"I'm alright. You? The move go well?"

"It went great. How've the kids been?" Dean grabbed his phone and sent a quick message to Cas, practically hearing his friend's laughter at the odd request.

"Balthazar's find, as always. Give the kid paint, and he's happy for hours. Anna had been having some, "she paused, sounding exasperated, "difficulties."

"With school?"

"Behavior, mostly. Well, you saw it, just now. She's always been temperamental, but she's doing things just to get a reaction." They had migrated to the kitchen where Steve folded his newspaper, placing it on the table.

"She won't talk to anyone. We know something is bothering her; she keeps acting out then continuing on like nothing happened. We were hoping she would talk to you"

"I'll try. No promises." Leah handed him a cup of coffee, for which he was grateful.

"We were thinking you could take them to lunch, maybe the aquarium if you want." Dean did some mental math regarding the state of his bank account, and decided he may as well splurge on his siblings.

"Yeah, sure." Leah smiled at him.

"We are rooting for you know. When the trial comes. As much as we love them, they should be with you." Dean sat down, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, it's not for months. I'm trying not to think too much about it, yet." He took a long drink of his coffee, and heard his phone beep on the table.

"Dean, are you doing alright?"

"Yeah. I'm finally out of that god-awful apartment, and my roommates are alright School, is well, it's school. It'll be worth it in the end." He didn't like revealing too much of himself to them, hoping to see them as nothing more than the people taking care of his siblings while he couldn't, but he knew they were genuinely good people who cared not only about Anna and Balthazar but also about him. He knew even after he gained custody they would still be a part of their lives; they would almost have to be, having raised them for almost four years. He started to contemplate what might be bothering Anna when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Balthazar skidded into the kitchen, sketchbook in one hand, the pencil set Dean had gotten him for Christmas in the other.

"Do you have the picture?" Dean opened the photo, grinning at how perfect it was for Balthazar- their kitchen, pan still on the stove with Sam, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, leaning back evidently having just finished eating, the plate next to him half-full, his request evidently having interrupted Castiel's breakfast.. Balthazar stood on his tiptoes next to him to get a look at the phone.

"Is that Cas?" he asked, pointing at the form in the picture.

"No, that's Sam. Cas is taking the picture."

"Ok. Cans I take it so I can draw the kitchen right?"

"Yeah. Is Anna ready?"

"Almost. What're we gonna do today?"

"Lunch and the aquarium."

"Yes!" His eyes lit up in excitement.

"Alright. We'll head out as soon as Anna is ready."

"Ok." Balthazar went and settled himself in the empty kitchen chair and began drawing, referencing the picture regularly.

"Should probably get the car seats moved to the Impala," Dean remarked offhandedly.

"You're more than welcome to just take van. Makes it easier." Dean caught the keys Steve tossed to him.

"Thanks."

"I'm going to go see what's taking Anna so long." Leah excused herself, and Steve started in on the breakfast dishes.

"How's the drawing coming?" Dean stood up, hoping to get a peek of his brother's drawing.

"You can see it when I'm done." Dean hastily retreated, silent dreading Balthazar's early teenage years if he remained as reclusive, and as perfection oriented as he was showing to be. He grabbed the dish towel from the fridge, and began drying doing his utmost to make himself useful. Steve simply nodded his approval. Dean was grateful for them, in so many ways. They had been willing to take on Anna and Balthazar for as long as it took, and made sure they weren't separated. They always kept Dean updated, even when he hadn't been allowed to see them. Most importantly they had kept his family safe when he couldn't. He heard Leah coming down the stairs, followed by a put out looking Anna. He finished drying the pan he was working on before turning to face them, and the tear streaks down her face nearly made his heart beat out of his chest.

"Anna, what happened?" Leah gave him a significant look.

"Can I talk to you, Dean?"

"Yeah. Living room?"

"Ok." Dean braced himself, understanding Leah had told her she could tell Dean what was bothering her. He was worried, afraid it might be something genuinely bad. Anna went to the living room and plopped herself down on the couch. Dean lowered himself down next to her, and was surprised when she crawled over, and buried her face in his side. She let out a few muffled sobs, and he put an arm around her, not sure what he was even trying to protect her from.

"Anna, sweetie, can you tell me what's going on? You're scaring me."

"I miss Daddy." Her face was still muffled and voice was tear choked, so he wasn't sure if he heard her properly at first.

"Did you say you miss Dad?" He felt her nod.

"Balthazar doesn't remember him. He was too little. But I do. I know he's sick, but I still wish he'd come see us like you do."

"You know he's not allowed to see you right?" Another nod into his side.

"Other kids get to live with their families. I just get to see you once a month."

"I know. I miss you guys. Every day. And I wish you could come live with me, but I have to be able to take care of you first."

"I wanna live with you now. I'll help take care of us."

"It's not that easy." Her head rose, defiant.

"Why not?"

"Because, Red, there's more systems we have to go through now, since Dad got you taken away."

"Don't call me Red. Why did we get taken away?" Dean's heart stuttered. He had been dreading that question for years, knowing sooner or later it would be asked. He took a deep breath, willing his own tears back.

"What do you remember?"

"We never had a mom. Daddy was drunk a lot, and Henry was gone a lot, until one day he didn't show up anymore. You were working lots, even though you didn't like leaving us with him, alone. I took care of Balthazar when you were gone. Then one day social workers came to take us away. You argued with them, they said we couldn't stay. You weren't old enough and daddy was an alcoholic, and Balthazar and me weren't being taken care of. Did they take us away because I couldn't take care of Balthazar right? 'Cause I tried Dean." Dean gave up trying to hold back the tears, and wasn't aware of that decision until he felt them rolling down his cheeks. He sorted carefully through his own self-loathing regarding that, searching for the right answer so his sister wouldn't have those exact same, misguided issues.

"It's not your fault Anna. It's not. It's not mine either ok? Dad is the one who couldn't take care of us. We were just kids, and Balthazar was just a baby. You aren't responsible for what happened, ok?"

"But if we aren't responsible then why do we have to deal with the consequences?" Dean braced himself, knowing this answer would scrape away a good chunk of childhood innocence.

"Because sometimes when you're a grown up you have to deal with mistakes other people make. And sometimes grown-ups make really bad mistakes and kids have to deal with grown-up problems. Mom and Dad made some mistakes, and we're the ones that have to deal with it."

"But that's not fair. They should have to deal with it."

"I know, sweetie. But life isn't fair." Anna pulled far enough away to look up at him."

"You're crying Dean."

"Yeah. I am."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like seeing you sad, and it's hard to answer your questions sometimes."

"Oh. You should answer so we can both stop crying then."

"You and Balthazar got taken away because you were still too little to take care of yourselves, and neither Dad nor I could do it. I really, really wanted to though. I still do."

"Ok. Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you stop crying now? You're my big brother. You aren't supposed to cry." Dean wiped the tears off his face.

"I'll try not to cry in front of you, ever again." She hugged him, so tight it almost knocked the breath out of him. She got up to go, when Dean spoke again, figuring he may as well use the moment. "Anna, are you happy with Steve and Leah?"

"Yeah. I am. They take good care of us. I'd rather be with you though."

"Even if it doesn't mean living in a nice house, and always being able to eat out, and-"

"You're my family, Dean. I'll always choose you."

"Ok. Go get your shoes on, so we can get out of here."

"Ok!" Anna scampered up the stairs, seemingly fine. Dean, on the other hand, sat on the couch for a few moments, trying to collect himself. Leah came into the sitting room, and wrapped an arm around him. He let out a few choked sobs.

"Is she ok."

"She was blaming herself for them ending up here. She thought it was her fault, Leah. I never thought of how it affected her. When I was gone, working. That she would try to take care of Balthazar when I couldn't. She's nearly as bad as I am. What did I do to her?"

"You didn't do anything. You did what you had to, to keep them fed. There was nothing else you could have done."

"I know that, logically. It's just, God, I don't even know how to explain it."

"Are you ok?"

"I will be. It's just, it's rough sometimes. Thank you so much for putting up with all our family drama."

"It's what we signed on for. We knew when we took them in you would be a part of their lives; we knew the story behind them. We love them like our own, and we're always here for you Dean."

"Thanks. I should go get Balthazar packed up."

"Yeah. And Dean?" He turned to face her. "I bet you'll make a great dad someday. Not just when it comes to raising them, but to your own kids too."

"Thanks." Dean went back into the kitchen, noting Balthazar's shoes, and the jacket hanging on the back of the chair.

"Is Anna ok?"

"Yeah, she's fine."

"Good. Can I take my sketch book with me to the aquarium?"

"Yeah. You just have to leave it in the car while we eat." Balthazar nodded in agreement, before returning to his work.

"I'm done, mostly. I'll finish it in the car." He inspected the picture. It was an exact replica- he was six; it looked more like a coloring book drawing, all simplified lines, and Dean was impressed by the style of it. Anna came back down the stairs, jacket in hand.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah." Dean loaded them up into the car, buckling Balthazar into his car seat and making sure Anna had strapped herself into the booster properly. They went to a diner about a mile from the house, one of Dean's favorites. He always stopped their on his way home if he didn't take his siblings there. Dean ordered chicken fried steak for himself, but nodded in approval when both of them ordered the burgers.

Half an hour later they were entering the aquarium. Dean led them to the place with bench where he knew Balthazar liked to draw. He watched his brother get settled in with the sketchbook, and draw the sea turtles. Anna preferred to stand and watch. He walked up behind her, watching as the fish chased each other around the fake coral.

"You okay, Red?"

"Yeah. I meant what I said though, about missing Dad. I want Balthazar to meet him, 'cause it wasn't all bad, not all the time."

"Maybe, someday. We'll see ok?" Dean knew the odds of the court granting even a one-time visitation at Anna's request were slim at best, but he couldn't let all hope die.

"That's the best I can hope for isn't it?"

"Yeah." An hour later, after staring at sharks, and fish, and dolphins, they went back home. Anna snuffled in his shoulder, and didn't want to let go. Balthazar was, as always more forthright. He marched up to Dean, and handed him the picture he drew that morning.

"Show this to Sam and Cas for me since I can't meet them yet?"

"I will."

"Will I see you again next month?"

"Yep, and I'll talk to you on Thursday."

"Ok." He ran back inside, eager to finish his sea turtle drawing. Anna stayed outside, half clinging to his leg.

"Dean, let us know if there's anything we can do."

"Yeah. Let me know if anything comes up?"

"Always." He shook hands with Steve and gave Leah an awkward one-armed hug.

"Anna, honey, come inside as soon as you're done saying bye to your brother." Anna nodded, and watched as Leah gave Dean a knowing look as they retreated back inside. Dean knelt down to be at her level.

"Hey Anna."

"Hey."

"You'll take care of your brother right? Make sure he doesn't get into any trouble?"

"Yeah."

"Can you do something for me?"

"What?"

"Can you behave for Leah and Steve? I know you aren't one hundred percent happy about your situation right now, but they love you very much, and are worried about how you've been acting."

"I can try. I feel better since we talked."

"That's all I can ask. You know you can call me anytime you need to talk right?"

"Yep. Sure you have to go?"

"Yeah. I got to get back. Balthazar won't be happy if Sam and Cas don't see this drawing."

"Ok. I love you Dean."

"I love you too, Anna. I'll see you soon." She nodded and scampered off to the house. He made sure she got inside before getting in his car and driving home. He cracked open the apartment door three hours later, and was happy to smell what he was fairly certain was tamales.

"Mexican tonight?" he asked, poking his head into the kitchen, where Sam stood setting the table, and Cas was working on what looked to be brownie batter.

"Yeah. How was the visit?"

"It was good, mostly. Balthazar made this for you guys" Dean showed them the drawing, and they expressed their amazement appropriately over it. Cas took it, and hung it on the fridge, as far from the stove as it could get.

"The kid's good. How old is he?"

"Six. Anna's eight. She's so much more aware of the world then I thought. Just what she remembers blows me away, and she handles it, better than I do sometimes." Sam nodded. They sat down to eat, and the smell of brownies filled the apartment.

"So actually learning to bake, Cas?"

"It was from a mix." Cas shrugged, knowing they'd eat the brownies anyway. Dean just leaned back in his chair, happy his siblings were well-adjusted, for the most part, and that he was home, safe and warm, with a couple of very good friends.

**A/N: So I got epically stuck on the second part of this chapter for a few weeks. Then it all came to me at once last night, and I've been desperately typing all day. I hope you like it! Review and let me know!**


	5. Chapter 5

Sunday breakfast was a little rougher than normal that week. None of them could quite pinpoint why. Maybe it was because Sam spilled his first batch of pancake batter, followed by Cas spilling half a jug of orange juice a few minutes later. Maybe it was because Dean woke up to the sounds of their loudly expressed vexation, and in his sleep-deprived, irritated state, dropped the coffee carafe, sending shards of glass into the pancake mess, and hot coffee. They glanced at each other, then at the mess their kitchen floor had become, and burst out laughing as they stopped yelling at each other.

"Maybe we should just go out," Dean suggested, as they searched out the majority of towels in their apartment.

"Yeah. We need to go to Wal-Mart anyway. We're out of paper towels, and uh, just about everything else," Cas added, as he searched fruitlessly for where their back-up jug of orange juice should be. Sam worked on picking the glass up, before he continued working on the pancake batter, and he sighed in defeat.

"That diner three blocks over?"

"Works for me." They finished cleaning up the mess, as nasty as it was, all pancake batter and orange juice and Cas' crappy coffee, and tossed the towels into the laundry basket, making a note to take care of it as soon as they got back. Shoes were put on, and they found themselves in the diner, ordering pancakes, twenty minutes later.

"So that was a walking disaster."

"I wasn't walking. I was standing in the middle of glass." Dean gave Sam a look that indicated his sass was not appreciated

"By the way what was the part that made the visit only mostly good? I expected you to come back all happy, but seemed sort of, well, sad." Leave it to Cas to notice that he was feeling off. He wasn't really surprised, it seemed like Cas could read him like a book.

"Anna blames herself- for them ending up in foster care. God, she's almost as bad I am. Logically she knows it's my dad's fault, but she still blames herself. She thinks she could've taken better care of Balthazar when she was four. And she wants to see Dad, and she said she wants to live with me."

"Well, do you want them too?" Sam cut to the chase, sensing it was something that needed to be brought up, even if Dean didn't want to talk about it.

"Yeah, more than anything. I have a court date here in a few weeks to see if it's even possible."

"Well, good luck. Let us know if there is anything we can do." Dean grinned at Cas, but was grateful when the waitress came over and plopped down the stacks of pancakes in front of them. The conversation became lighter after that, and Sam was scrawling down everything they would need on their shopping trip. They finished their meal, and piled into the Impala.

"Hey why don't we get one of those ones that just makes individual cups?"

"Dude, those cups are like ten dollars for fifteen of them. No way."

"What's the price of not drinking Cas' coffee?"

"I find the process cathartic. Besides, Sam, I have gotten better. You only put two spoonfuls of sugar into your cup Friday."

"We're getting a regular coffee maker Sam, and you can quit your bitching."

"I will bitch as much as please." He gave in though, and grabbed a standard twelve cup coffee maker from the shelf. Cas sighed, and just continued pushing the cart. Sam was surprised by how much fun he really was having, migrating through Wal-Mart, arguing over paper towels, and caramel or French vanilla coffee creamer. As much as he kept saying to himself that they were just around to pay the rent he consistently found himself shocked by how easily they had wound themselves into his life, how much they knew just by existing in the same space.

They returned home with their spoils. Dean grabbed the now disgusting towels, and lugged them to the laundry room in the basement, hoping that dried pancake batter would come out with one washing. Cas glared at the coffee pot, as he assembled it, hoping it would do a better job at well, its job than its predecessor had. Sam absently piled the assorted foodstuff into its appropriate places, wondering if lasagna would be good for that night, or if they should just order Chinese food.

"Hey Cas, you want me to make a lasagna or should we just chill and order Chinese later?" Better to get a second opinion on the matter, and as Dean (who would no doubt say yes to the lasagna) was still downstairs Cas was his only choice, unless he decided to start talking to the wall, which he supposed was entirely possible.

"Order Chinese. I feel as if one cooking disaster is enough for the day." Sam shrugged, unable to argue with his logic. As the groceries were put away, and the towels were in the wash he found himself at a loss as to what to do.

"Hey you guys want to watch Lord of the Rings?"

"Yeah."

"Why not?" Dean went to his room, and rummaged through his collection for extended edition set he owned, the only indulgence he had allowed himself to purchase. Plopping the first disc in the dvd player, he sat down next to Cas."

"Regular or extended?"

"Regular. I don't want to be here for the next 14 hours."

"Where's the fun in you?"

"Buried in my dresser drawer." He could practically see Dean bite his tongue, and Sam found himself contemplating for the millionth time if he should just get clean already. The familiar theme and Galadriel's voice opened on the screen- Sam assumed Cas had hastily hit play, and the subject was dropped, though the tension in the air lingered for several minutes, until the firework dragon came on and made them all jump. The movie ended, about 4, and Dean was hungry.

"What should we have for dinner?"

"Sam and I were thinking we could just order some Chinese."

"Yeah. I'll go pick it up. Save the delivery fee."

"Yeah. Cas, you want to call it in?"

"What do you all want?" Cas stood to go find a notepad, and pen, and came back into the room a few minutes later to find Dean and Sam pouring over the takeout menu.

"Wontons."

"Edamame."

"Wontons."

"What on Earth?"

"Cas, tell him wontons are the better choice for a _shared_ appetizer."

"Excuse me for not wanting to down prepackaged deep fried noodles."

"They aren't noodles."

"They actually aren't, Sam. However, if I am the deciding vote I will say edamame. I prefer it to wontons in most cases." Dean threw his hands up in defeat, collapsing back onto the couch.

"Yes!"

"Perhaps we should go family style? It's significantly cheaper, we would each still get our own entrée, have leftovers, and Dean would be able to get his wontons." Cas had scanned the menu, hesitating, before speaking. Dean and Sam looked at each other, both wondering why they had failed to think of that solution themselves before agreeing. Cas wrote down their order- edamame, wontons, fried rice, chicken lo mein for Cas, beef and broccoli for Dean, and sesame tofu for Sam.

"For a stoner, you sure eat healthy."

"It tastes good, Dean," Sam said, as he earned himself a disbelieving look, "Fine, you know what? You have to taste it."

"What? No way?"

"Yes."

"I imagine there will be enough for all of us to share." Dean and Sam turned to look at him.

"Right. Of course." Castiel left the room to make the call, as Sam and Dean continued bickering in the living room. Cas found himself uncharacteristically annoyed by it. As he hung up with the restaurant, he was storming back into the main room.

"Will you two stop it, for five minutes? Honestly, it's like living with siblings!" They both snapped their heads over to the sound of his voice, jaws hanging open. "Dean, the food should be ready in about twenty minutes. I would recommend you leave now." Dean decided the slack jaw look was good for him, as he gathered his jacket, and keys and left, before Cas let out another unprecedented display of anger. Sam disappeared to the bathroom for a few minutes, when Cas threw himself onto the couch, punching the pillow as he landed. Eventually Sam reemerged, poking his head out cautiously, and decided he'd probably be safe, as Cas was simply reading one of the many books he had tucked away into corners of their apartments. He approached carefully, sitting down in the chair. Castiel looked up at him as he entered.

"So what are you reading?"

"the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls"

"Huh?"

"It's a sonnet, by ee cummings. It's rather unconventional its structure, as much of cummings work is, but I rather enjoy it."

"I prefer Dickinson, personally. cummings is a bit to, as you put it, unconventional for me." Cas put the book down, resting it in his lap."

"I apologize for my earlier outburst, Sam. It was uncalled for."

"Everyone loses their temper." They nodded at each other, before Cas cracked open the book again, and they sat in comfortable silence until they heard the door crack open.

"Guys, I could use a third set of hands in here." They both stood up, knocking into each other, as they went to help Dean haul in dinner. He was carrying 3 bags of food- Styrofoam containers stuffed full of MSG-y goodness. Once Cas determined Sam and Dean could manage on their own, he went to the kitchen and pulled down three plates, as well as the necessary cutlery. Dean and Sam emerged in the kitchen, and pulled out the boxes. The smell of salt, noodles, and steamed broccoli filled their kitchen as boxes were opened and food was dished out. They carried their plates out to the living room, intending on starting _The Two Towers_, Sam bringing up the rear. Dean and Cas turned to the sound of a shattering plate.

"Fuck. Sorry. Sorry."

"It's not a big deal, Sam. I'll help you clean it up."

"I've got it." Both boys chose to ignore Sam's request, and moved to help him clean up the mess. Dean moved to the kitchen to get some paper towels, and only noticed it once he got back and looked at Sam at face level.

"Dude, are you high?"

"Why the hell do you always assume that? Seriously, all day it's been nothing but stoner jokes. It's not all I am man."

"Because I don't seem to have a choice but to assume the worst." Cas slowly retreated to the opposite side of the room, confused by the sudden change in atmosphere. He sensed the first real fight of their house headed towards them, and like being in a car crash couldn't get out of the way or look away.

"Seriously, dude. Why do you hate everyone so much?"

"It's healthy skepticism."

"Well, I'm not high, and it's not as big of a deal as you seem to think."

"Anything that could keep me from getting custody of my siblings is a bigger deal than you seem to think."

"How does what I do with my Friday night even remotely effect that?"

"Answer me this have you ever been arrested for it?"

"Yeah, of course. Still not getting the big deal."

"I live with a guy who has a documented history of drug use. You think they don't look at that, Sammy?"

"Sorry. I wasn't thinking of the future roommate with Daddy issues worse than mine when I was eighteen. Didn't exactly see that coming."

"Don't even think of bringing my father into it. He's a good for nothing drunk that's another bill in a pile of bills I can't pay."

"Didn't realize it was so touchy."

"Yeah. And I'll assume you're high until I have something that indicated I shouldn't."

"How about some trust?"

"Trust gets you screwed over. Why don't you just quit using? You said if there's anything you could do to help."

"Cas said that."

"You didn't exactly jump up to disagree."

"I don't quit because I don't want to."

"Don't want to or can't?"

"It's not a, a problem if that's what you're implying."

"That's exactly what I'm implying."

"Back off." They were standing toe-to-toe now and Cas was afraid they were going to start throwing punches. He doubted he'd be able to break them up- Sam outweighed him (skinny though he was) by at least thirty pounds and Cas got the impression Dean had been in a fair few fights.

"No. Just in the month we've lived here how many days have you not used anything?" Sam hesitated, not willing to answer, but Cas noted the way his finger twitches as he tried to count, already knowing Dean would demand an answer. "Well?"

"Counting today? Two."

"And it's not a problem. Whether or not you like it you aren't the only one being judged for you actions anymore- I'm judged for them too. And maybe in your perfect suburbia life you've never had anyone scrutinize every move you make and-"

"Don't you dare pretend to know my past and finish that sentence like I think you're about to." Dean looked defiant, amongst the anger clouding his features.

"Have your worth as a person determined only by the worst aspects of yourself."

"Fuck you." Sam turned and left the kitchen. They heard his door slam and Cas and Dean made eye contact.

"Sorry, man," Dean apologized. He left the kitchen and Cas heard his door close as well. He was left staring at the remains of what had been his favorite plate surrounded by rapidly congealing sesame sauce and cold rice. Silently he cleaned up the mess, put the rest of their food onto plates, and put them in the fridge. He went to the living room, putting the DVD back in its case and putting it on top of the player for Dean to collect when he re-emerged. He sat on the couch, all hopes of a relaxing evening gone, for close to forty-five minutes thumbing through the anthology he had been reading earlier but failing to absorb the meaning on any of the seemingly random collection of letters littering each page.

Eventually he decided he may as well try to get some sleep, as neither of his roommates seemed likely to reappear that evening. _Highway to Hell_ was audible from behind Dean's door, which Cas took as a sign, that although angry now he was doing what he needed to to calm down. Cas figured he was the type best left to cool down on his own, and talking, in all likelihood, would just make him angrier. The silence coming from Sam's room on the other hand was deafening and something wasn't sitting right in Cas' gut. If he was reading Sam right then he was a talker so Cas figured it wouldn't hurt to stick his head in and make sure Sam was alright before turning in. He knocked on the door then knocked again. The silence still wasn't quite right.

"Hey Sam. I'm coming in. You better not be naked or something." Cas cracked open the door, revealing navy blue walls with blackout curtains drawn over the window. The laptop on the standard issue Ikea desk provided the only light, which illuminated the long body, face first in the crappy carpeting.

"Sam? You ok?" Cas approached him, hoping fervently that he was asleep. The smell of vomit reached his nose however, and he nearly retched when his sock clad foot hit some wet. He touched Sam's shoulder and the skin was clammy through his t-shit.

"Dean!" he bellowed, louder than he had been aware he could. He heard the music quiet, and Dean emerged in Sam's door, the light flickering on.

"You called?"

"I think he-"Dean was already crossing the room- looking at the pill bottles littering Sam's nightstand.

"Crap. What didn't he take? Cas, call 911." Cas' phone was in his hand, but he found himself unable to remember the emergency number. He was grateful when Dean grabbed the phone from him.

"Yeah, hi. We're at 491 Poplar. I think my roommate my roommate overdosed." Dean paused listening- Cas heard the operator ask something.

"There's a whole bunch of pills on his nightstand. I think the better question is what he didn't take." Another pause. "I don't know. You'd have to ask him, and he's a bit unconscious."

"What's happening?" Cas managed to compose himself enough to mouth the words at Dean. He held up a finger.

"Thanks. The door will be unlocked when they get here." He indicated with his head that Cas should be downstairs to let the paramedics in. Cas left and was surprised why they arrived less than five minutes later. He led them up the stairs to 3C where Dean was waiting next to Sam. He had turned him over onto his side and Cas was shocked- both by the bile trickling down his chin and just how pale his roommate was. The paramedics were lifting him onto a stretcher- getting an IV set up, checking vitals. Dean was giving the Sam's basic info, digging through his wallet.

"Any family to contact?" the paramedic asked as they wheeled Sam towards the front door. Dean realized Sam had never mentioned any family and he got the distinct impression there was probably a reason for that.

"No. He just has us."

"Either of you gonna ride with him?"

"No, we'll meet you there. They left and Cas closed the door behind them, still in shock.

"You ok man?"

"I didn't think it would be-"

"Overdoses are never pretty. He's lucky you went in there."

"Yeah right."

"Come on. Get your shoes. We're leaving in five. Maybe they'll release him tonight."

"They won't keep him?"

"Nah. They'll make sure he's not suicidal then release him to us."

"Right." They disappeared to their respective rooms for few minutes to prepare for what would inevitably be a long wait (for Cas they most indicated removing his vomit covered sock). They climbed in to the Impala- Dean insisting that Cas wasn't in a fit state to drive. They remained quiet until they were nearly there.

"You don't think he'll, you know, die do you?" Cas was doing his best to not sound like a frightened child but even to himself he knew he wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"He was breathing ok, and I think most of it came up on its own." Cas nodded, and followed numbly behind Dean when they found a place to park. Dean seemed comfortable with how this worked, so Cas followed behind, wondering what had happened in his life to make this calm about find his roommate, his friend, passed out in a pool of his own vomit.

"Can I help you?"

"Sam Campbell?"

"They're working on him. Take a seat. A nurse will get you when he's cleared for visitors." Dean nodded and steered Castiel towards one of the dark plastic bucket chairs. They settled in and waited. Dean flipped through a six month old Reader's Digest while Cas watched mindless primetime, not bothering to try to read the subtitles on the muted TV. Half an hour passed, then an hour, at the ninety minute mark Dean put down his magazine.

"Damn it, what's taking so long?"

"I'm sure everything's fine Dean."

"Yeah. Just don't know if they'd tell us it weren't though."

"Relax."

"Uh huh. Just want to get back and see him- won't believe he's ok until I see it."

"Two hours ago you were ready to kill each other. Now you're worried sick."

"Something personal, Cas?"

"Sure."

"You grew up nice, right? Good neighborhood, two parents, white picket fence, golden retriever you got as a Christmas gift- whole nine."

"It's hardly as idyllic as you present, but yes I had a fairly comfortably childhood."

"I sure as hell didn't and I get the feeling Sam's wasn't exactly sunshine and daises. You've been wondering how I know how this works right? It's probably my dozenth time doing this."

"A dozen." Cas breathed it out, having a hard time wrapping his head around that number- he wasn't sure he'd even to a hospital a dozen times.

"My dad would get blackout drunk every day after my mom left. Had to do this more than once." Cas nodded, determining it to be the best policy. They lapsed back into silence, both watching the mindless sitcom now.

"Campbell?" A nurse called out, about ten minutes later.

**A/N: Laughs manically. Yes, a cliffhanger my lovelies. I look forward to your lovely reviews (and your reaction to the next chapter). Isn't plot great?**_elHel_


	6. Chapter 6

They stood, shuffling towards the nurse. She smiled at them, in the quiet sad way they so often did. Dean nodded at her as they followed her to the back.

"He's not awake yet. Hopefully he will be soon." Cas nodded, and they pulled back the curtain separating Sam from the rest of the room. He had oxygen tubes going into his nose, but otherwise looked fairly normal. Cas took a seat in one of the chairs, while Dean grabbed the doctor's stool, and rolled over to the side that didn't have the IV. They sat there in silence, waiting for him to wake up. Eventually, after what felt like hours, his eyes fluttered open, and he groaned.

"What happened?"

"You OD'd."

"Crap. That was stupid."

"Yeah. Hey Cas, go tell the nurse he's awake."

"Yeah." Cas left the room, headed towards the nurses' station.

"You feeling ok?"

"A bit like I got hit by a truck, but been worse. How long was I out?"

"Almost four hours."

"Damn. When are they going to let me out?"

"Cas is going to find a nurse."

"How'd you guys find me?"

"Cas. He went to check on you, and I don't know- he just had a feeling something was wrong."

"Cool, I'm glad I'm not dead."

"Me too." Dean wondered if he should apologize for their fight- if that's what had sparked his binge. Sam didn't seem too worried about it though, and he decided that it wasn't the time to bring it up. If it came up later- he'd worry about it then. Cas entered the room with the nurse from earlier.

"Hey Sam. How are you feeling?"

"All things considered I'm alright."

"We do have some questions," she turned towards Cas and Dean, "if you two would step out."

"I want them to stay." The nurse didn't look amused, but didn't force them out. Cas was still wary, hanging back by the curtain, but Dean remained at his post by Sam's side.

"Sam, was the overdose intentional?"

"No. Just an accident. Overestimated my limits."

"Right. We pumped your stomach and gave you activated charcoal. You were pretty out of it when you got here."

"Yeah. I certainly don't remember getting here."

"We've provided some brochures for treatment options. There are plenty of quality outpatient addiction treatment options locally. If you are interesting in inpatient care however-"

"Listen it was an accident. I don't have a problem, need treatment, whatever. I'd just like to go home." The nurse looked irritated.

"At this point you would be leaving against doctor's orders."

"I'm perfectly alright with that. I'm sure my friend here will raise a stink if I start acting oddly." She had begun to unhook the variety of tubes and wires tethering Sam to the hospital. She brought the discharge papers once again cautioning him he was leaving against medical advice. He stumbled as soon as he stood up, and relied on Dean's arm wrapped around him as support to get back to the Impala. They remained silent as Dean drove them home, Cas in the backseat with Sam. When they arrived back home it was Cas that supported the weight of the still too pale Sam. Cas deposited him in the armchair, tossing a blanket over him before going to the kitchen where Dean had disappeared. He was warming some of the leftover rice.

"Really?"

"It's for Sam. He needs to eat something and rice should be bland enough."

"Right." Cas rummaged in the cabinet for the kettle. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yeah, sure." The microwave beeped as Cas filled the kettle. Dean grabbed a fork and carried the plate out to Sam.

"Eat up." Sam made a face."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes." Sam took the fork and the plate, hands shaking badly enough that the plate tipped precariously, and Dean caught it just before it ended up on the floor.

"Sorry. Could you?"

"Yeah." Dean balanced the plate for him, as Sam steadied his hands enough to get a bite of rice from the plate to his mouth. Cas emerged, placing two mugs of tea on the end table, and returned to the kitchen for his own.

"You doing ok, Sam?" Cas asked when he came back, curling up like a cat on the couch.

"Yeah. Just you know, shaky."

"Right." Dean held the plate with one hand, grabbing the handle of the navy blue mug, recognizing it as his own, and taking a sip of tea.

"You're lucky Cas found you."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." He brought the hand not gripping the fork up to run through his hair.

"Just be careful, man. We like you alive."

"Yeah. I generally do too. I could really use a shower. Hospitals make me feel dirty." He took a drink of the tea.

"Yeah, not helping you there."

"I'm pretty sure I can walk now. If you here a thump come running."

"Sure thing." Sam disappeared, closing the bathroom door. Dean put the half-eaten plate of rice down.

"It's odd. I've gotten kind of attached to the guy."

"Yeah. We have become friends. It's entirely unexpected."

"Not bad though."

"No. Not bad." A few minutes later Sam emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a sweatshirt and pajama pants, saying he was going to bed. He left his bedroom door open. It was the beginning of a tradition- whenever one of them had a particularly awful day they would sleep with their doors open, taking an open door policy to a literal level. It took temptation away from Sam, and let them hear if Dean had nightmares that would make him scream or if Cas was thrashing around in his sleep and fell out of bed. Dean and Cas stayed for a bit longer, finishing off their tea, before heading to bed. There was the unspoken decision to not go to class the next day.

The next morning, at nine am, they were all still padding around in their pajamas- Dean hadn't even bothered to put a shirt on. Sam was still pale, but was able to manage his own plate. Cas had even let Dean make the coffee. They sat, clutching their cups, watching the news, not saying much. They all glanced at each other when the intercom buzzed, confused. Dean stood up, and went over.

"Hello?"

"Hey. This is Gabriel." Cas stood up, flying across the room practically shoving Dean out of the way."

"Gabe?"

"Gonna let me up?" Cas buzzed him up, and a minute later there was a knock at the door. Cas opened it, revealing a short, stocky man in a suit, pulling a rolling suitcase behind him.

"Gabe!" Cas was, for the most part, glad to see his brother.

"Cassie! How are you?"

"I'm fine. It's just, now may not be the best time."

"He's fine, Cas," Sam called from the living room.

"Right. Well, come in then I guess."

"Nice place."

"I didn't realize you were in town."

"Yep. Will be for a while." They made their way to the living room where Sam and Dean sat.

"Sam, Dean- this is my brother, Gabriel. Gabe- this is Sam and Dean." Everyone nodded to each other, exchanging the appropriate greetings.

"So Gabriel, what do you do?"

"This and that. Mostly finance stuff."

"Descriptive."

"Well, Sam bit of mystery is always good. Least until the third date if you catch my drift." He winked.

"Gabe! Sam I apologize for my brother. He can be a bit forward at times."

"its fine, Cas." Sam wasn't one to believe in love at first sight, not to mention straight (at least when he was sober enough to distinguish), and so put off the surge of attraction to being tired and off from the previous night.

"Castiel has always had that stick up his ass."

"I don't have a 'stick up my ass' as you put it. I merely am aware of normative social boundaries."

"Cas, buddy- sometimes you have a stick up your ass."

"I don't recall asking for your opinion, Dean," Cas snapped.

"Who put the bite in your Wheaties this morning?"

"You did, Gabriel. Showing up, completely unannounced. No time to prepare."

"Sam, maybe we should give these two some time to talk." Sam gave a jerk of the head and they stood to go get dressed. They would worry about where to go as soon as they weren't in the apartment.

"Gabriel, what were you thinking?"

"That I wanted to see my baby brother."

"Gabe."

"They don't know, do they?"

"Not, not everything."

"Trying to be the prodigal son again?"

"Hardly. They both simply have their issues and I am disinclined to throw my own into the mix."

"Everyone has issues, Castiel. What _do_ they know- so I don't blow your cover?"

"They know Mom and Dad are divorced. And they are under the impression that my childhood was rather idyllic."

"So they don't know anything?"

"It's something."

"Cas, our mother is a borderline abusive, religious nutcase. Mom and Dad ended it because he couldn't handle her anymore after Lucifer killed himself. She kicked me out of the house after I came out- saying she was doing it because she loved me. They may have issues Cas, but if you handle theirs I'm think they can handle yours."

"You have a brother named Lucifer?" Dean's voice sounded behind him. Cas felt his stomach sink, and bile raised in his throat.

"Out of the way," he choked as Sam, who was standing next to the kitchen door. He bolted towards the sink, coffee and stomach acid burning his throat. Dean rubbed his back, waiting for him to be done. When he was finally finished Dean filled a glass with water, and handed it to him. Castiel gave him a grateful smile and rinsed his mouth out.

"Cas, talk to me, to us." He glanced to Gabriel, who was standing to the right of Sam in the doorway, looking apologetic.

"Maybe I should come back later?" Cas nodded.

"About six. We'll have dinner." Gabe nodded at Sam's suggestion, grabbing his suitcase and closing the door behind him.

"Yes. Gabriel is years older than me. Lucifer was between us- 3 years. My mother was very strict, very religious. Her brank of Christianity is, at best, incorrect. She was particularly fond of corporal punishment. My father though, is a kind man, who worried about the stigma of divorce in our community. When I was 17, Gabriel came out. Not surprisingly my mother was displeased. She told Gabriel to get out, and not consider himself her son until he renounced his sinful ways.

I defended him, as did Lucifer. She said I was still too young to understand the severity of Gabriel's transgressions against God. She gave me a black eye and told me to get out of her sight. I wish that I hadn't. I heard the screams from my room. She told Lucifer that he shouldn't have been born, and that she should have known when she looked at him and saw a fallen angel. She said it was his fault Gabriel is gay. He had always admired my mother for her devotion, although he didn't subscribe to her views. He hung himself that night. There were other issues, but it's what sent him over the edge.

My father filed for divorce a month later. He claimed he could no longer be with someone who renounced her children, and sent them to a grave. I could have escaped, mostly unscathed- I've always had a knack for sliding under the radar. She has attempted to make amends with Gabriel, having lost everyone, but he refuses to speak with her. I told her as much last year, that she had betrayed our trust, that she had gone too far. We still speak on occasion, and she blames my father and Gabriel for much of what happened. It's a rather complicated dynamic.

She is angry that I sided with Gabriel, and that we have a relative healthy relationship. I lost most of my faith in a god because of her draconian tactics. I know Gabriel certainly has. We've accepted what happened, though sometimes I worry that Gabriel blames himself for Lucifer's suicide."

"God, we're all fucked up." Sam let out a sigh.

"We make it work."

"Yeah. Seriously you hear that and your reaction was confirming I have a brother named Lucifer."

"Can anything we reveal actually surprise us anymore?"

"Nope." Dean popped the p, and stood, rummaging around for eggs in the fridge. "You guys want omelets for breakfast?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Uh, guys?"

"Sorry, Cas. You gonna be able to keep that down?"

"Yeah. It's just-"

"It's fine Cas. You need us, we got you. It's out there. You didn't overanalyze anything we've told you. We won't do that same to you."

"Thank you." He said it quietly, with reservation. He counted himself lucky to have such wonderful roommates, who simply rolled with the punches life kept throwing at them. He stood up, and grabbed a pan, heating oil and dumping hash browns into it. They ate breakfast, talking about how their basketball team was doing, and laughing. Cas, for the first time in years, counted his blessings before he ate.

**A/N: Sorry for any errors, it's nearly 1 AM and I really wanted to get this up. Poor Cas has a harder time of it than they thought, and things won't stay idyllic in Dean/Sam/Cas land for long. Real life always catches up.**


	7. Chapter 7

It was Thursday. Things always seemed to happen on Thursdays, but Dean wasn't sure why. It was considerate of the universe though, to wait until the almost weekend to throw shit at him. He appreciated it. Dinner Monday night had gone well. Cas tossed hastily purchased pork chops into a pan, making a red wine sauce Dean swore should be illegal (though he supposed their means of acquiring the wine technically were) and garlic mashed potatoes Cas had forced Sam to make. Dessert was a pie Dean had picked up from their favorite diner- Maggie's- none of them had managed to broaden their baking skills beyond pre-packaged brownie mix and Castiel insisted there should be some kind of dessert. Apparently Gabriel liked sweets.

Dean pretended not to notice when Sam asked his favorite dessert and then had the nerve to head straight to his room to write it down. Yes, dinner had gone very well indeed. Gabe easily occupied the conversation with stories about Cas' formative years. Cas maintained a position on the track team, attending practices but an ankle injury in the fall prevented him from actually running. Dean hadn't known that. The rest of the week was fairly normal.

It was five and he was glad to be off work. He loved his job- he really did, but the idiot who's car he was working on didn't believe in annual maintenance apparently, and he was stuck trying to repair three years and five thousand dollars' worth of damage to a car that quite frankly wasn't worth that much. He was irritated- the only thing keeping him from driving to the nearest bar was the promise of Sam's homemade alfredo sauce and the contented purr of his Baby beneath him. The sound of his ringtone alerted him to the fact it was his father calling. He groaned and pulled to the side of the road to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Dean-o." He knew immediately that John was drunk.

"Hey Dad."

"You doin' anything?"

"I was driving home. I've been at work for the past six hours."

"Got arrested. Public intoxication." Dean rolled his eyes, far enough back in his head he was almost surprised they didn't get stuck.

"Right. I'll be there in two hours."

"Thanks." All plans of a relaxing evening, as well as any hope of actually having time to study went flying out the window, with a particularly loud crash. He would get to the police station, assuming traffic cooperated at 7:34. He knew the exact time from experience, and hated every second of it.

It would take at least an hour for them to process John out, plus twenty minutes to get to John's apartment and another half hour to get out of there if he was lucky. His best case scenario was getting home just before midnight, and he knew full well that was only if the fates decided to smile on him. When he got the John's-been-arrested call it was generally a good indicator that the fates weren't going to smile on him.

He sighed and pulled back onto the road. He stopped at a gas station at the next exit, needing to turn around. As he filled the Impala he realized he should call one of his roommates. Sam picked up after three rings.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"What's up?"

"I have to pick my dad up. Public intox. Can you put some of the pasta into a container for me? I won't be back until at least midnight."

"Sure thing. You ok, man?"

"Yeah, just a long day that got longer."

"Ok. Drive safe. Let us know if you decide to crash at your dad's or something."

"Yeah, sure thing." Dean knew that was unlikely, but he looked at the developing storm clouds and realized that the choice may not be in his hands.

Dean drove, blaring the radio and sang along loudly, if not well, trying to blow up off some steam. He arrived at the station, right on schedule and took a minute to glance at the grease still beneath his nails before forcing himself out of the car.

He walked in, glad to see it was Michelle on duty. She was usually there when they brought John in, and she always took a moment to flirt with Dean. Although it rarely did much to ease his irritation with his father, it did help to have at least a familiar ritual.

"Hey Michelle. How is he tonight?"

"Intoxicated and belligerent." Part of him realized he should be disturbed by the fact he was on a first name basis with the booking officer two towns over, but he let the thought slide.

"So a total joy." Dean felt like being sarcastic tonight and indulged the urge. He saw Michelle smirk as she caught the mood.

"Always good to have a drunk John Winchester. I was starting to worry he'd gotten cleaned up. It's been almost two months since we've seen him."

"And it's been refreshingly quiet."

"How are the little ones?"

"Good. Saw 'em two weeks ago. Growing like weeds."

"They do at that age."

"Yeah. Hey, it's been kinda a long day and I'd like to beat that storm home."

"I'll see what I can do to get things sped along, but only if you promise we won't be scraping you off the Interstate."

"Promise," Dean held up two fingers. "Scout's honor."

"You were never a Scout, Winchester. We'll get him moving, but he's still pretty drunk."

"I'll make sure he's locked down for the night." Dean took a seat on the hard plastic chair, settling in while he waited for them to begin the checkout process. He checked his phone, having felt it buzz while he flirted with Michelle. It was a picture message from Sam. He clicked open, revealing the table set with the glorious pasta, coated in parmesan cheese as well as a salad with what looked like one Cas' homemade vinaigrette and golden garlic bread. There was a cheesecake on the counter behind the table. Cas was in the picture at the sink, his head turned towards Sam, tongue sticking out. Dean had to hold back a laugh. At least they were having fun.

-Glad you're having a good time. Better keep some of that leftover for me

As soon as the text was sent, he sat back. He had long since memorized the posters – anti-drug, gun rights, ads for bail-bond services. They never changed, nor did many of the people. It was generally the same assortment – the only new face wass a twenty-first birthday or bachelor party gone wrong.

It was still too early for much of anyone to be around, so he allowed himself to shut his eyes. Tomorrow was Friday, for which he was grateful. He hoped the storm wouldn't blow in. He preferred not to miss class when he could avoid it – saving absences for when he could pick up extra hours at work.

He glanced out the front door, noticing it was starting to spit snow. He just managed to suppress a groan. He played nervously with the outside seam of his jeans – a habit he'd picked up as a teenager. Eventually John emerged in the door, grinning stupidly. At least he was in a happy drunk mood. It was better than the alternative.

"Ready, Dad?" He nodded. Dean glanced at Michelle and grimaced.

"Good luck. He's moody. Angry when we brought him in."

"Great. He's been in the tequila." Tequila was never good. It made him moodier than a fifteen year old girl. Beer and whisky made him angry; rum and bourbon would put him into a good, if reckless mood.

"Come on, then." He took John's arm and led him out the door. They were practically to the car before John even realized who he was.

"Hey, Dean."

"Hi."

"Where are we going?"

"Home."

"We should get a drink sometime, Dean. I miss you." He started the car, squinting through the snow. He knew he wouldn't be making it home that night.

"Let's just get you home. I'm gonna be crashing on your couch."

"Ok." He tried to focus on the drive, ignoring the humming from the passenger seat. It took half an hour to get to John's apartment given the snow. He dragged John out of the car. He rummaged in his pockets for the keys.

"Useless. You're useless. Couldn't even keep the kids."

"Come on. Let's get you to bed."

"Henry was good. Never cried as a baby. Had ambition." Dean did his utmost to ignore the words. It was a common rant when John was drunk and he did everything in his power to pretend that it didn't affect him. It did of course. Henry had abandoned them, just as surely as Mary had. Dean hadn't heard from either of them since they left. He had done his best, but it seemed like the best was never enough for John Winchester. It made Dean feel just how tired he really was at his heart.

"Right. Right." Dean maneuvered him to the bedroom, throwing him down on the bed. He counted his lucky stars that as soon as John oriented himself to the pillow and figured out he was in his own bed he passed out. Dean closed the door as quietly as possible. He grabbed his phone and dialed Sam, as promised.

"Hey Sammy," he whispered.

"Hey."

"I won't be back tonight. The storm is pretty bad here."

"Right. We'll see you tomorrow. Drive safe."

"Yeah. See you then." Sam hung up and turned to Cas. "Dean's staying at his dad's. Apparently the storm is a bit nastier there."

"That sucks. This cheesecake is really good, though."

"Yeah. We don't tell him about it?"

"Agreed." Sam dug his fork back into the cheesecake he and Cas were currently sharing.

"I feel like I should feel guilty."

"Eh. It's just food. You know what kinda sucks? Gabe is asking when we'll invite him over again. I finally remembered why I was ok with seeing him every few months."

"It could be worse."

"True. It could be my mother."

"Least your family talks to you."

"You don't talk about them."

"Amelia's the only one that matters. Biologically she's not my sister, but she was in every way that actually counts." Sam shrugged, trying to pass it off as something casual.

"Was?" Cas was really listening now, curious. Sam never talked about his or even any friends he had that weren't Cas or Dean.

"Back when I first got into the drug scene, I was in pretty deep. Amelia cared, maybe a little too much. She called me out on being out of control. I didn't listen to her, told her she was wrong, though much less nicely than that. She told me to call when I got my life together. I haven't talked to her in four years. Last I heard she was Europe- trying to forget everything that happened."

Cas thought back to the girl he'd met in the office supply store the day he'd picked up moving supplies. Her name had been Amelia and he couldn't help but wonder. Odds were it wasn't, he told himself – Amelia may not be a super common name anymore but it wasn't all that rare, either.

"Then why don't you just call her?" I'd say you have your life together by this point."

"It's not that simple, Cas. It's never that simple."

"Why not?"

"There were some things that happened in high school. The whole reason I got into the drug thing in the first place. I know it's stupid, but I guess there are just some things you just don't get over."

"It happens. I mean, we all have a past here I think."

"It's really pretty stupid. I mean we were sixteen. My girlfriend, Kaylee, well, I thought she was the love of my life you know? She was cheating on me. Amelia was her best friend, and she was the one who told me. She chose me, essentially. I kinda went off the deep end – dropped out, got into drugs. Amelia blamed herself, for telling me."

"A logical thing, I guess." Cas put down his fork realizing just how much of the cheesecake he'd eaten, and thinking Sam might need the rest of it after this.

"I guess. She didn't jump off the deep end like I did- she did a slow gentle slide. I heard she was pretty depressed there for a while. She graduated at the end of her junior year. She did a semester in college before taking off to Europe. I guess she needed some alone time.

"I got myself semi-sober when I was eighteen, got my GED, and have been powering through a degree in freakin' astrophysics since. Another year of this crap."

"You got it together. If you miss her as badly as you seem to you should just call. She'd probably be glad to hear from you."

"Maybe, someday. Soon." Sam scraped the last of the cheesecake crust from the tray.

"Ugh. That was good."

"Tell me about it. I swear between this and their pie, Maggie's keeps a magician in their kitchen."

"Given their prices it's the only solution."

"I never thought I'd fall in love with a diner."

"You too huh?"

"Yeah." They managed to haul themselves from the kitchen table about ten minutes later. They finished cleaning the kitchen and settled in front of the TV for the next hour.

Cas woke the next morning to the sound of the front door closing. He stretched and sat up. He was fortunate enough not to have a class until one on Fridays. He threw on a t-shirt and wandered to the kitchen to make the coffee. Dean was sitting at the table, head in hand, not moving.

"Morning." Dean only grunted. "Everything ok?"

"Fuck off."

"That's a no then. I'll leave you to stew in your own juices. Coffee's on when you manage to haul yourself out of them enough to move." Cas retreated from the snarky comment to the shower, hoping the promise of caffeine would put Dean into at least a livable mood. As he toweled off though he generalized that the coffee hadn't quite done the trick.

"Sammy, I don't want to talk about it!"

"Can you at least take your sulking out of the kitchen then?"

"It's my apartment too. I'll sulk wherever I damn well please."

Castiel muttered to himself, as he listened to his roommates fight. They were worse than Gabriel and Lucifer had been. He shrugged into his jeans and walked into the kitchen, still toweling off his hair.

"Will both of you quit it?"

"Why?"

"Because it's annoying. Dean had a rough night. Leave him be." Dean gave him a tired smile. Sam's lips clamped shut as he poured his cereal with a glare before stalking off to the living room. The sound of the news reached their ears. Sam was grumpy, and had been thinking of his monologue at Cas last night. The question of whether or not it was really a problem was nagging at his mind more than usual.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"You're an ass, Sam." Dean called into the living room.

"So are you."

"What crawled into his shorts?"

"You weren't the only one who had a rough night, Dean." Cas had a way of being a peacemaker, of pointing out the obvious in the most profound way. He didn't care much for conflict.

Two hours later Dean was in his room, having decided three hours of sleep on a lumpy couch and a still-drunk John that morning had been too much to ask him to be a functioning human being, at least until he had to be at the Roadhouse that night. Sam was still sulking in front of the TV, watching crappy cartoons and generally hating himself. Cas was sitting at the kitchen table with his statistic book and mostly blank notebook, hating standard deviation, proportions. He wasn't even sure anymore.

A knock on the door startled them all – no one had buzzed up. Cas stood up, cracking the door cautiously.

"Meg?"

**A/N: Well, there's that. Much like Cas, I need to avoid failing statistics so I'm not going to make any promises about the frequency of updates. A huge thanks to everyone who followed. Also, to those of you who follow me on Tumblr, a drawing of Balthazar's drawing from Chapter 4 should be up this weekend!**

**A/N 2: Sorry about the spelling/grammatical errors on the first posting of this. A huge thank you to Synk for pointing them out and KillerKueen for being a second pair of eyes**


	8. Chapter 8

"What are you doing here?" He pulled the door open, confused when it revealed more questions than answers. She picked up the baby carrier and bag, swaying in.

"Meg?" he intoned, again.

"Thought you'd like to meet your son."

"Wow, what?" Sam turned around at hearing their exchange, mildly alarmed.

"Cas, man, everything ok?"

"Uh, not so sure just yet. Kinda confused. Meg, this is Sam, one of my roommates. Sam, this is Meg, my, er, ex."

"Nice to meet you."

"He's kinda cute."

"Meg, feel free to uh, sit." Cas found himself stumbling over words, trying to shake off the study fog he had found himself in before Meg's arrival. She put down the baby carrier and perched on the couch.

"Do you, uh, want anything to drink?"

"Some water would be great."

"I'll be right back." Cas smiled, trying to be hospitable. The words "your son" were still ringing in his mind and found he was unable to find the right words to question her about it. Sam followed him to the kitchen where Cas had gotten out a glass. He had braced himself on the counter, body angled out, cabinet still open about his head His entire body radiated stress. He found himself thinking back to the days when he had actually known Meg. It had been high school, and he was looking more to spite his parents then he actually liked her. She was wild, a lot crazy, and if he was being honest pretty mean. They had had a good time, of course, but she had disappeared out of his life as soon as things had gotten difficult. Given the situation with his family at the time he hadn't had the time to be heartbroken and had never missed her much, but they had run into each other at a party, if he was being honest with himself, about nine months previously. It had been a drunken one-night stand, no attachments. He never expected her to show up at his door, walk back into his life, carrying a baby that was in all likelihood his. He tried to process the information and found himself unable to wrap his head around the fact that Meg was currently sitting in his living room, let alone with a whole new world of responsibility at her feet.

"When faces called flowers float out of the ground- and breath is wishing and wishing is having."

"Are you really quoting cummings at me right now?"

"Yep. Third stanza, first line, Cas" Cas' lips pressed together hard enough to turn into nothing more than a white line.

"when more than was lost has been found and having is giving and giving is living." Cas relaxed a bit, understanding the meaning of what Sam was trying to tell him.

"You want us to get out of here?"

"No. Go ahead and stay. I'm sure this is all simply a misunderstanding." Cas wasn't sure he believed his own words. He had done the math in his head and whether he liked it or not it added up.

"Good luck." Sam wandered back to his own room, trying not worry. Cas filled two glasses with water and took a deep breath, bracing himself. He went back to the living room where Meg was feeding little bundle Cas assumed was the baby. Meg smiled at him. Another deep breath and he tried to ignore the flipping of his stomach.

"So, you said something about a son."

"Yeah."

"Care to elaborate?"

"He's sixteen days old. I named him Rebel Casta." Cas cringed at the name, the part of his brain that knew etymology had automatically begun turning. She had named him "pure rebel".

"Are you sure he's, well, mine?"

"Positive. You're more than welcome to test, of course."

"Not that I don't trust you-"

"You don't."

"I will be testing."

"I wouldn't expect anything less." Cas ran a hand through his hair, brain still working overtime to process what was happening.

"God, Meg, why didn't you call?"

"You wouldn't have answered."

"For this? I think I would've called back."

"It was a one night stand, Clarence. Not like either of us planned it "

"Four years, Meg. I've known you four year and I still don't get that nickname."

"Watch a movie."

"Why are you here? Money?"

"Always assuming the worst. Just thought you'd like to know. Maybe be a part of his life." Cas was in shock, for the most part, still. Anyone would be hard pressed to blame him. A kid was a huge responsibility, financially and other wise and he wasn't sure, at least in his current state he was able to handle it. The money didn't scare him nearly as badly as the thought of actually being responsible for the life of another human

"Yeah. I do. We can work something out." He found himself saying the words in spite of himself. It wasn't until they left his mouth he realized how true they were. How much he actually did want to be involved.

"Of course" The baby- Rebel- Cas reminded himself had long since finished eating, and let out a tiny burp. He realized, suddenly he wanted witnesses to the next few minutes of his life.

"I'll be right back." Cas found there was a dopey smile on his face in spite of himself. The logical part of his brain was terrified. He was in no way ready to be a father, but he had always wanted kids and if this was how the universe decided it should happen he could make due with that. He hadn't even seen the baby's face yet but he could already feel his heart making room for the kid- unconditional love and all the other stuff new parents talked about. He knew he wasn't processing the full gravity of the situation. He knew that and decided there would be plenty of time to figure out whatever it was he was missing in the moment later. He stood in the hall, at the spot between their rooms.

"Sam, Dean can you come out here please?" Sam stuck his head out, grinning, followed just a few seconds later by Dean.

"What's up?"

"Want you to come meet my son with me?"

"What?"

"It's a long story, Dean. Please just go with it for now." He nodded, seeming to understand the gravity of the moment. Cas went back to the living room, taking the seat closest to where Meg was.

"Hey. I'm Dean."

"Meg." Cas found himself staring at the bundle of blankets in the baby carrier, not quite believing there was a baby in there.

"Meg? Can I hold him?" Castiel was uncertain as to why he was so unsure of himself.

"Yeah." Meg picked up the bundle, and leaned towards Cas.

"I'm not really sure how to-"

"Just keep his head supported." Cas eventually got his arm around the baby, head cradled in the crook of his elbow. Curious eyes, fading from the gray-blue of all newborns to a bright blue Cas knew well from two decades of seeing it in the mirror latched onto his. A tiny fist pressed against the blanket Rebel was swaddled in and Cas moved the blanket to the side, with the hand not cradling the newborn. He opened his hand and grabbed ahold of one of Cas' fingers. He could feel the wonder on his own face and was aware of his friends' eyes on him.

"Hey there. I'm your daddy." Rebel cooed, squirming around, forcing Cas to bring a hand to rest of his side. Cas was utterly enthralled in the child, so Dean figured it best to make politer conversation.

"So Meg, besides the obvious how do you know Cas?"

"High school sweethearts, followed by one ill-advised night."

"We were drunk," Cas supplied.

"Do you go to school or?"

"Sam, right?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't you have a thing with Ruby?"

"It was short lived." Sam grimaced, as if it was something he didn't really want to think about.

"Ruby? Sounds hot."

"Oh, she was. She was also crazy as hell. How do you know her?"

"An old friend. Well, not so old, but, long enough."

"Cas, man, who the hell did you hang out with in high school?"

"Oh, I was his rebellion. His parents hated me." Cas immersed in the baby as he was couldn't help but think it had been the one thing his mother was right about.

"How are Mr. and Mrs. Novak these days Castiel?"

"Divorced."

"Ah well, can't say I'm surprised. After everything."

"I don't think any of us were." The tension in the room grew palpable.

"Hey Cas, not to interfere with your bonding moment, but would you mind if I held him?"

"No, go ahead." Cas carefully handed Rebel to Dean, who adjusted his arms and seemed much more at ease with the baby then Cas had.

"Hey, little man. Haven't held one of you since my brother was a baby." Rebel waved his arms in the air.

"Meg, perhaps we could discuss an arrangement?"

"Yeah. Kitchen?"

"Sure." The pair stood and made their way to kitchen as Sam scooted closer to watch the baby.

"So, Meg."

"Castiel."

"How do you want to do this?"

"Well, I do like my weekends you know."

"I can gladly take him Thursday evening through Sunday. "

"That's fine with me. Shall we start with this weekend?"

"That'll be fine."

"Allow me to check with Sam and Dean to be sure the arrangement suits them." Cas walked back into the living room before Meg could respond.

"How would you guys feel about having a child in the apartment during the weekend?"

"I'm fine with it. Sammy?"

"We can finish clearing out the spare bedroom for a nursery." Cas was relieved his friends were flexible; willing to go with what life threw at him, and them by association.

"I'm gone then. See you Sunday." Meg went out the door without another word, leaving the three men standing there blinking stupidly, Rebel still cradled in Dean's arms. Cas walked numbly to the bag, relieved to see enough formula and diapers there to last a few hours. A moment passed, until another coo from Rebel broke the spell.

"I guess we're going shopping."

"Cas, man, wow, just wow."

"I apologize for the sudden change in plan. This was, incredibly unexpected."

"Cas breathe man. Let's get this little guy packed up, and head out." Cas ran his bank account through his head, and knew he had enough to get things set up for the baby."

"I'll stay here; get the spare room cleaned out." Dean and Cas left a few moments later, and Sam found himself alone. He had moved his desk not long after they had moved in. He glared at the now dead potted plant and hauled it out, deciding to dump it later. The room was empty, but still disgusting. No one ever went in it. He settled into a rhythm, dragging out the vacuum, and deciding to wipe down the walls too.

As he cleaned he thought, as he had been doing a lot lately. About the possibility of calling Amelia, having things maybe be ok again. He had been allowing him to talk about her more, to think about her. He knew unless he was one hundred percent clean she wouldn't respond. He wouldn't blame her. The what if of the situation wouldn't leave his mind. Could he give up the drugs? Would it be worth it? He sighed aloud as he turned on the vacuum, not having the answers to questions he needed. Right now though, he knew his issues weren't the priority in the apartment. Cas needed their help, and he put his energy into that.

**A/N: Credit for "when faces called flowers float out of the ground" goes to ee cummings and the copyright holders of his work. Also a huge thanks to my new beta KillerKueen. I love hearing from you guys so let me know what you thought!**


	9. Chapter 9

As Sam cleaned, downstairs Cas and Dean worked on shopping. The biggest source of confusion currently was figuring out how to connect the baby carrier to Cas' car.

"Damn it this thing is complicated." Cas stood on the sidewalk, cradling the baby, watching as Dean managed to get himself entangled in the seat belt meant to be fastening the carrier to the car. Cas was becoming less enthralled with the baby, but still found himself distracted for minutes at a time as he moved and made noises.

"I was under the impression these things were made to be simple to install and uninstall so one didn't constantly have to transfer the infant."

"Well, Cas, I don't exactly have an instruction booklet here. I say you should just buy a damn car seat."

"Will you just let me try?" An older couple walked by, smiling at each other as if there was a secret to be had.

"Welcome to parenthood, boys. Remember when Eric was born, Roger?" The lady smiled at her husband who nodded and they continued walking. Dean muttered under his breath and finally managed to jerk the strap through the bottom of the carrier.

"Finally!"

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just go get some stuff for the little guy."

"Right. What do babies even need?" Dean tried not to laugh, thinking back to when Balthazar had been a baby and the sheer amount of stuff that had been required just to keep him alive. They had barely managed and that was before Henry had taken off.

"A lot."

"I figured that Dean. I'm not a complete idiot. I meant besides diapers and such."

"Well we need a crib and a changing table for starters. Diapers, clothes, bottles, formula, shampoo, towels, baby wipes, rash cream, binkies. Toys, if you can afford them." Cas blinked, clearly overwhelmed by the list. "Oh and a baby monitor. We can worry about baby proofing the apartment in a few weeks once he starts doing something besides eating, sleeping, crying and pooping."

"You just listed off the whole of the baby department." Cas had regained the ability to speak.

"Not the whole thing. Just the basics."

"Dean?"

"Panics setting in?"

"I have no idea how to take care of a kid." Cas felt himself pale, and he worried the slight tremor in his hand would show.

"You'll learn. You have me. You have Sam. We aren't going to let you kill him."

"I know that, but the future. I mean he's not going to stay two weeks old forever. He'll walk and talk and needpotty training and taught to read. What if he gets sick or-?"

"Cas you want to know something?" Cas really didn't want to know something, but he nodded anyway. "You are sitting in a car, less than two hours after finding out you have a kid and you aren't picking a direction. He's in the back and you are about to go spend a ridiculous amount of money on baby supplies. You're worried about messing him up. You'll be fine. You'll figure it out."

"You can't know that."

"Yeah, I can. Now drive." Cas obediently turned the engine over and pulled out of his parking spot. Dean sucked his lower lip between his teeth and gnawed on it.

He thought back to how he knew what he had told Cas. He had been sixteen, sitting in a social worker's too small office, freshly emancipated, fighting to get his sibling's back. It hadn't been possible then. The social worker, though- one of the few he had been able to tolerate- had never told him to give up. In fact she had encouraged him to keep fighting, to not lose hope. She had told him she knew he would be fine when he did get custody because even then he never stopped to think about the effect the situation they were in had on him. He was only worried about his siblings. Cas would be just fine, even if he was a little freaked out. Dean was suddenly aware of how slowly they were going.

"Cas is there a reason you're going twenty in a thirty-five zone?" He figured he may as well ask. There might be an invisible traffic jam.

"I don't want the car seat to-"

"It'll be fine. You can go the speed limit, preferably before you get pulled over for going too slow."

"We don't even know if it's installed properly."

"It's fine."

"I don't-"

"Damn it, Cas! Drive! We need to get there before he's eighteen." Cas glared but sped up to the speed limit, glancing in the rearview mirror every few seconds.

"There's no need to yell, Dean."

"Sorry."

"It's fine. It's been a stressful day."

"Let's just get through the rest of it."

"Meaning let's go empty my bank account."

"Welcome to parenthood." Sarcasm even Cas could recognize.

"Honestly," Cas' voice softened. "How do you know all this?"

"When I say I raised my siblings I mean Balthazar's first word was 'Da' and it was directed at me. I worked two jobs from the time I was fifteen to keep them alive."

"You are a parent, for all intents and purposes."

"Told you I took care of 'em. Always have. Hopefully will be able to get them back. Have a court date here soon."

"I hope you get them. They seem like good kids."

"They are. Balthazar's gonna grow up mostly normal. Anna remembers though. I worry about her."

"She'll be fine, Dean." Cas pulled into the parking lot and sought out a space. He parked and got out. He unhooked the carrier easily, not even disturbing the now slumbering baby, and gave Dean a look to communicate just how hard it wasn't.

As they entered the store Dean grabbed two carts, shrugged, and dove in. The cart Cas was driving was soon piled high with a box of diapers, clothes, blankets, bottles and things Cas didn't even know the names of, but that Dean assured him were necessary in some way to the baby's well-being. Cas figured he'd thank him later. As Cas debated the best kind of formula Dean wandered over to the furniture. A changing table was something he could easily pick out, knowing what he had wanted when Balthazar was a baby. The main goal was a lot of drawers. For some reason the crib was a lot harder to choose. Dean was aware of the squeak of Cas' cart as it came up behind him.

"How's it going?"

"Let me buy a crib for you, man."

"Dean, I can't. This is my responsibility, and I will make the sacrifices that come with it."

"There'll be a lot more of that coming your way. Let me help you out. This one time." Cas sighed, but Dean knew that he would give in.

"You will continue to insist won't you?"

"Yep."

"Thank you, Dean. I appreciate your kindness."

"That's what friends are for." Dean slapped Cas on the back. The baby began to fuss and their attention turned to him.

"Hey, little guy, what the matter?" When Rebel's face screwed up and he stopped crying for a moment Cas knew. He knew and he dreaded what was to come. He shot a panicked a look to Dean, who simply smiled. He loaded the crib he had chosen into his own cart, glad that the shopping part of the day was over. Dean led the way, knowing Cas had no idea what he was doing. They left the carts outside, and Cas shouldered the diaper bag, as Dean removed the baby from the carrier.

"Yeah. We got you little guy." Cas went into the bathroom, pulling down the changing table. He grabbed a diaper and the other necessary supplies before looking at Dean for help. "I have no idea what to do, Dean."

"How about I just teach you to do it with the next one? This isn't the best place to learn to change a diaper."

"Yeah. That's fine." Cas tried to keep the hurt out of his voice. It was hard to not feel completely incompetent when he couldn't even take care of his son. He bit the inside of his cheek, and watched, carefully taking it all in. As soon as a clean diaper was firmly attached to Rebel they made their way to the cashier, and then home. Cas didn't say much, still trying to process the day. They pulled up, and began unloading the items. As they opened the apartment door they were surprised to see the entire apartment was clean.

"Sammy?" Dean called out.

"Yeah?" Sam stuck his head around the corner, rag in hand.

"Help me get the crib and stuff up here?"

"Yeah." Sam and Dean made their way down, and Cas sat, unbuckling Rebel from his carrier. He squirmed and cooed.

"Hey. We're lucky we have Dean and Sam you know? Dean knows how to take care of you, and he's helping me learn. Sam just cleaned this entire apartment. When I woke up this morning I was just a guy, and now I'm a dad, so you're gonna have to give me some time to get used to it ok? I'm gonna mess up, probably a lot, but I won't ever hurt you. I'm gonna figure out how to be a dad, and you're gonna figure out how to be a person,and Sam and Dean are gonna help us both." Rebel didn't seem to be too concerned with Cas' words, so Cas settled in, for a moment until he heard the door bang. He went to open it for his roommates. He was surprised to see them breathless and covered in sheen of sweat.

"You'll never guess what just decided to break." Dean was irritated, and from what Cas managed to deduce rightly so.

"No."

"Goddamn elevator busted in the five minutes between the time we were in it and the time we tried to get this thing in." Dean gestured to the changing table now sitting on the living room floor.

"Can you help me get the crib out, Cas?" Sam asked. Dean presumably wanted to begin assembling the changing table.

"Sure. Dean, are you ok up here?"

"Yeah. We'll be fine." They made their way down the stairs. Sam was rubbing the back of his neck; a habit Cas knew was one that generally preceded a conversation he didn't want to have.

"Are you alright, Sam?"

"You know I really should be asking you that."

"It's just been a long day. Unexpected."

"That is has. Listen, Cas, I'm, I'm thinking it's time for me to at least admit I have a problem. There's a baby in the apartment now, and I've been thinking about it for a long time. And it's just finally right. I don't know if I'm ready to get clean or even if I can, but it's something I'm thinking about more and more."

"Sam, I don't expect you to change your lifestyle for me."

"I'm doing it for me. I had some time to think today, and I don't know. It just made me realize that things can change really fast. Now's a good a time as any."

"Then I'm happy for you. We're here for you. Whatever you decide." They got a grip on the crib, and made their way up the stairs, without any serious injury occurring. They went down to get the last load of bags, and made their way to the room that would be the nursery where Dean was assembling the changing table.Rebel was watching him intently.

"Dean, I have a drug problem. Thought you should know."

"I kinda figured. We'll get it worked out, ok?" Sam stiffened a bit, but didn't say anything. They worked in silence for a while- Cas organizing things, washing bottles, as Sam and Dean assembled the furniture. Suddenly Castiel realized the time.

"Dean, didn't you have to be at work at seven?" Dean pulled his phone out glancing at the time.

"Crap!" He looked wildly to the half assembled crib and sleeping baby and back to his phone.

"It's alright, Dean. We can manage."

"No, Cas. Just a sec." Dean flipped his phone open. "Hey, Ellen. Yes, I know I'm late. I won't be in tonight. Yes, I know it's a Friday. My roommate got quite the surprise today. What? A baby. Thanks for understanding. I'm sorry. Yes, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thank you, Dean. I realize how much you need to work."

"There are more important things than money, Cas."

**A/N: So first things first- art for chapter four is available on Tumblr under the tag We Became Brothers. A huge thank you as always to my beta KillerKueen (who is fantastical and special in every way and also apologizes sincerely for the delay as her computer was stolen). Its finals so if you could validate my existence as a human through reviewing it would be much appreciated.**


	10. Chapter 10

A week and a half later**,** Sam was standing over the stove watching scrambled eggs cook. He was up early enough for once to have made the coffee and it was just starting to drip. He also knew exactly where both his roommates were. Dean was standing in the bathroom trying to get the tie he had borrowed from Cas to lie straight, mumbling to himself that it'd all be ok. Cas was perched on the edge of his bed, door thrown open, where he had been since last night (Sam doubted he had slept), clutching the envelope that would confirm what he already knew about Rebel's paternity.

Today was the day of Dean's court date to assess his fitness as a guardian. He had, for the most part been fairly quiet about it, not wanting to think of something that was largely out of his control. He hadn't even told them about it until a week prior. It was a big deal. Dean hadn't needed to say it for them to know

They hadn't expected the results of the paternity test to come in yesterday, creating another layer of anticipation. He had been unable to open the envelope and at this point Sam wasn't sure if it was because it would say he was Rebel's father or if it was because he was afraid he would say that he wasn't.

They had fallen into a pattern these few weekends with him. Cas would put him down at eight or nine, fed and changed. When Dean came home from his shift at the Roadhouse at half past midnight he would check on the baby, who was usually starting to fuss. Sam came in about three and changed and fed the kid again. He had found himself surprised by how relaxing it was to feed him. Rebel would usually still be a bit sleepy and would suck on the bottle, eyes half closed. Cas would get up at six-thirty when Rebel did. It worked well for them, so well in fact Cas joked he was the only well-rested parent of a newborn on the planet. The fact of it was all of them had gotten rather attached to the baby.

Sam debated adding some garlic to the eggs before realizing it was probably a bad idea. He couldn't decide between Canadian bacon and sausage so he tossed both in a pan. He fiddled with the toaster so it wouldn't mangle the bread. Cas came storming in, envelope in hand. His hair was sticking up at all angles, and his pajama pants were askew.

"You open it. I can't do it." He put the envelope on the table and began pacing around the kitchen. Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighted. He knew Cas needed to be the one to do it, but he really needed to wind down first. The first batch of toast popped up and Sam put it on the plate.

"Pour some juice, Cas."

"Why are you even making a huge breakfast? I'm too stressed to eat, andDean's too nervous."

"I need to cook. You guys need to eat." Cas poured the cranberry juice, trying not to wrinkle his nose. It wasn't one of his favorites, but he had been outvoted at the grocery store the previous week. He returned the juice to the refrigerator and resumed pacing.

"Seriously, I can't do it. What if, what if he's not mine?" Sam pulled the last of the toast out of the toaster. He stared at the six slices and wondered why he hadn't lowered the setting for his. The smell of sausage was relaxing Castiel. It smelled like home, in a way that he was unfamiliar with. It just alerted Sam to the fact that he should keep a closer eye on it so it didn't burn.

"Cas, calm down. You've seen his eyes. Those aren't exactly a dominant trait.There's only way to know for sure, and that's to open that envelope." Sam tried not to grin triumphantly, knowing that it had been the reason Cas was so stressed over the results. He wanted a kid, or at least he wanted Rebel.

"Are you still angsting over that envelope?" Dean stormed into the kitchen, managing to both look dark and dejected. Sam sensed this was going to be a long day.

"Because you aren't shaking in your boots"

"Boys, no arguing over breakfast. Cas, open the damn envelope and get it over with." Sam wasn't used to being the voice of reason in any room.

Cas took a deep breath, followed by a deep drink of juice. He stared at the envelope sitting innocuously on the table. He weighed it in his hands, and tore it open with shaky fingers. Sam moved the meats to a paper towel covered palate and put some cheese on the eggs.**.** Cas pulled out the single sheet of paper and studied it closely for a moment.

"Oh thank God."

"He's yours?"

"Yes." Cas smiled. Two weeks ago he'd have been terrified to have that paper in his hand with that result. Now**,** though**,** after having spent time with Rebel, getting to know his emerging personality, he wouldn't have it any other way. Judging by the ways his roommates were currently grinning at him he guessed they weren't entirely opposed to it either.

"That's one victory today. Let's hope to make it two." Sam felt some of the weight lift off his shoulders, weight that hadn't been his to bear, but that he had chosen to bear anyway.

"I'll drink to that." Dean raised his coffee cup after depositing one in front of Castiel.

"Shut up and eat," Sam prodded. Dean threw his tie over his shoulder and dug in.

An hour later the three of them were sitting in the Impala. Dean was driving**,** of course**;** though he was shaking so badly Cas was worried they were going to crash into the highway's concrete barrier. When they had gotten off the highway and were sitting at a stoplight Cas leaned forward and put a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean, relax. You will be fine."

"Yeah, right." Dean was terse, breakfast churning in his stomach. Cas and Sam were both determinedly not looking at him as he hunted for a parking spot, knowing there wasn't much to do that could comfort him and that it was up to him to pull himself together. They made their way through the security checkpoint and Dean had broken out in a cold sweat by the time they reached the designated courtroom.

"Breathe Dean. You're not any good unconscious."

"I'm fine. This will go fine."

"That's the spirit. You ready to go in?" Sam was doing his best to be encouraging.

"As ready as I'll ever be." They cracked open the heavy doors and walked in. Balthazar and Anna were already there, sitting next to Leah and Steve. The social worker was sitting in front of them. The kids turned when they heard the creak of the door. Balthazar stood and walked quickly over, wrapping his arms around Dean. Anna made her way over more slowly, looking wary.

"Hey guys." Dean's voice was low, rough with suppressed emotion.

"It'll be ok, Dean. No matter what happens you're still our big brother." Anna caught the mood and automatically reassured him.

"I know. I know."

"You're Sam." Balthazar finally spoke, looking up at him. "I drew you."

"Yeah. And you know what? It's hanging on the fridge at home."

"I know it is. Dean told me." Cas was shuffled off to the side, while Sam managed to look slightly awkward as he interacted with Balthazar.

"You're Cas**.**" Balthazar turned his attention to the dark haired man.

"Yes. I am Castiel."

"You have very expressive eyes."

"Thank you. You draw very well."

"I want to draw you." Dean and Anna were watching the exchange. Listening to them talk was odd given Balthazar's characteristic bluntness and Cas' tendency towards formal speech patterns,but it fit in its own way. Dean couldn't help but think Balthazar had found a kindred spirit. They made arrangements so that Balthazar could in fact draw Cas at some point. Court was called to order not too long after and they settled into the seat Leah had saved for them. Time seemed to slow until it was very nearly standing still. The time the trial took stretched, until finally they were ready to hear the judge's decision.

"Custody of Anna and Balthazar Winchester shall remain with Leah and Steve Ulnar for a minimum of six months." Dean heard the words and had to suppress the urge to punch the bench in front of him. He nearly did it anyway, until the felt Anna's hand rest on top of his closed fist. It was ok. It was going to be fine. He was still their big brother. The group rose and made their way outside when court was dismissed. Standing outside on the steps of the courthouse**,** Dean couldn't help but think the day was a little too nice, the sun a little too bright. Steve spoke first.

"We are so sorry, Dean."

"It's- it'll be fine. Maybe by Christmas." He said it carefully, knowing his siblings were listening. Anna was still clinging to his hand, had been since they reached the hallway. Balthazar was holding onto him, both arms wrapped around his hips. Dean knew there would be a tantrum coming from him when he had to leave.

"We were hoping this time."

"We all were. Let's just-"

"Dean, we were thinking if you were amiable we could let Anna and Balthazar stay over at your place for a weekend sometime." Dean could feel the eyes on him without having to look down.

"Yeah. Yeah I'd like that."

"We'll give you a call?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"Sam, Castiel, it was wonderful to meet you."

"You too." Sam smiled.

"Anna, Balthazar we need to be getting home." Anna sighed, and dutifully walked towards Leah after giving Dean a quick hug. Balthazar proceeded to cling tighter, just as Dean had predicted. Dean could feel Balthazar shake his head.

"Balthazar." Sometimes, given his blunt nature, Dean forgot Balthazar was only six, and as prone to tantrums just as any six year old.

"I don't want to go. I want to stay with Dean."

"Now. Balthazar."

"No." Dean had to resist the urge to wrap an arm around his brother, keeping him close. He carefully extricated himself from the child's grip, and knelt down on his level.

"Balthazar, you need to go with Leah."

"But I want to stay with you."

"I know you do**,** kiddo. I want to stay with you**,** too."

"But if I want it and you want it-."

"It's not that simple. You know that."

"I don't care anymore." Balthazar wrapped himself back around Dean, burying his face in his shoulder.

"I know it's hard. Do you want me to carry you to the car?" A muffled nod. "Ok." Dean lifted him up, realizing he was almost too big to carry. They made their way to the van, Cas and Sam trailing behind. The door slid open and Dean got Balthazar arranged in the car seat.

"Dean? Are you going to be ok?"

"Yeah. I will be. Are you?"

"Yeah."

"I'll see you soon."

"Ok." There were still tear tracks, but it could've gone much worse. Anna gave him a sad smile from her seat next to her brother.

"Love you guys." Dean's voice was gruff, and he could feel tears clouding his vision as he slid the door shut. He turned around as they pulled off to see Sam and Cas standing there looking at him as if they were resisting the urge to hug him.

"Dean-" Cas began.

"No. Sammy**,** you're driving." Sam dutifully caught the keys that had been thrown to him. Dean felt like a five year old sulking in the front seat as Sam drove them home. He _was _acting like a five year old sulking in the front seat and he knew it. He just didn't care. Cas kept looking at him pityingly,but didn't say anything.

They made it home. Part of Dean wanted to get mad, throw dishes against the wall, run away. He knew it wasn't going to happen. He plopped himself down on the couch and turned the TV on. It was mindless Hallmark style movies that were complete and utter bullshit. He found tears running down his face in spite of himself. Five minutes later Cas appeared with the fluffiest blanket they had in the house and tossed it over him, before silently retreating. Sam entered five minutes after that bearing a slice of pecan pie from the fridge and a cup of hot cocoa, brimming with marshmallows**:** just how Dean liked it. He put the pie on the end table and forced the cocoa into Dean's hands, making sure he took a sip before he began his retreat.

"Sam-"

"It's ok, Dean. You know where we are when you need us." Dean nodded. God, he was pathetic.

**A/N/: Oh, hey look plot. This will likely be the last update before I leave on a three week study abroad. I won't be updating during this time due to Internet access/class obligations, but I'll still be writing and will have updates ready as soon as I get back! Thanks for reading.**


	11. Chapter 11

They left Dean there for the evening. He drank the hot cocoa, appreciating the sticky sweet of the marshmallow. He glanced at the pie heartedly. It felt like all the fight had slipped right out of him today. He had been so sure, everyone had been so confident that today was the day. The thing that pissed him off the most wasn't even his own anger. It was the sheer devastation that had been in Balthazar's eyes, that had been in Anna's eyes.

He had been getting dragged through the mud since he was fourteen. The world didn't have much to offer him besides heartbreak; at this point he doubted the world had much to offer anyone but heartbreak. He didn't want them to know that. He didn't want them to know that for as long as they possibly could. Cas came to check on him before he went to bed. He took the pie.

"It'll be in the fridge if you want it later," he had said. Dean wasn't sure if he had even grunted in response. A large part of him didn't want the pitying looks his friends gave him, the ones Leah and Steve had given him. The fact of it was**,** though**,** he was glad to have someone that could take care of him when he needed it. It was a luxury he hadn't had in a very long time. It was nice to have someone to bring him soft blankets and hot cocoa and pie from his favorite diner when he was upset.

He couldn't summon the energy to move. He couldn't even find the energy to fall asleep. He just sat there and stared at the TV, long after infomercials replaced regular programming. He couldn't get beyond the thought that Anna and Balthazar should be his to legally protect. He should legally be allowed to do what he had always done and he felt that they were being taken away from him, again.

He wanted to go find the whisky he knew Sam had stashed in his room. He finally understood why John had started drinking so much. He had always thought it was about numbing the pain. It wasn't. He was already numb. It was about getting that singular nagging thought to stop, just stop.

He already felt half-drunk off his own exhaustion and despair. He realized he had never even taken off his shoes. His feet were on the couch. Cas would be irritated if he discovereddirty footprints. He started laughing at the ridiculousness of it. He was being loud, too loud he realized.

It wasWednesday. He had class in five hours and work and responsibilities and he was sitting with his feet on the couch in a cheap suit watching infomercials wrapped in a fuzzy blanket at three am drunk off his own despair. Fuck responsibility and fuck his shitty life. He realized vaguely he was approaching hysteria. A dull light shined from Sam's room and his silhouette was illuminated in the hall.

"Dean? What are you still doing up?" His voice was sleep-rough and his too long hair was askew. Dean couldn't stop laughing. Sam crossed the room in a few easy strides turning the lamp on. Dean kept laughing, tears streaming down his face now. He realized he was**,** in fact**,** hysterical.

"Come on, man. Quiet down. If you wake up Cas**,** he's gonna kill us both." Dean gasped**,** trying to regain control of himself. Sam clicked the TV off.

"I-I can't- stop."

"Dean, I will slap you." After a few more minutes Dean stopped laughing, slowing to gasps.

"Let's get you to bed. Come on." Dean stood, trying to feel appropriately chagrined. Sam followed him, making sure he crawled into bed. He left his door open as he returned to his own bed.

"Dumb son of a bitch," Sam muttered to himself, before he fell back asleep.

Dean was cranky the next morning. Sam and Cas quietly steered clear. Cas disappeared, presumably to the library, long before his first class. Sam stuck it out, sensing Dean needed someone around. After Dean left though**,** he realized he needed some air, to get out the apartment. It was nearing 11:30 by the time he got himself showered and dressed. There was a sandwich shop ten blocks away. It was a walk, but he figured it would get him out of the apartment for at least a couple hours. He picked up his wallet and shut the door behind him.

He was glad to have some time to think. He hadn't had any significant alone time in a while. The past few weeks had been insane, especially with the addition of Rebel to their apartment. He didn't begrudge his roommates his attention. They had needed some help lately. He just needed some time on his own- he had his own issues.

There were the drugs and Amelia. At this point though those weren't really issues - they were assumed constants nagging at the back of his head. The issue occupying today's walk was Gabriel Novak**,** who had inexplicably taken over Sam's mind. He had only met the man twice now, but felt like the world as he knew it had been turned on its head. Sam liked to think it was because he was too damn happy- against all logic.

He was Cas' brother for crying out loud. Cas' significantly older, definitely male, brother. Sam was straight. Sam _knew_ he was straight. But Gabriel, if Sam was being completely honest, was forcing him to reevaluate a lot of what he thought he knew. Yes**,** there was a physical attraction. He could admit that. There was also something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

A mystery, a force that kept drawing his thoughts to him. It was part of the reason he had been re-evaluating his life. Sam had been tired for a long time, done a lot of things he wasn't necessarily proud of. He had lost the best friend he ever had. Sam liked to think he had some pretty thick skin, but in reality that just wasn't true. He went off his gut. He also spent a lot of time doing what he was supposed to or at least what he thought he was supposed to.

He couldn't help but think that maybe the universe was finally telling him it was time for a change. Ever since he'd gotten those e-mails from Dean and Cas, his life had been turned on its head. One more change wasn't going to kill him. He was nervous, yes nervous, about being attracted to a man, but he supposed it wasn't something that could be helped.

Ever since Gabriel had shown up at their door he had spent more time working on his file called 'novel.' The file containing ideas he'd like to write had grown exponentially. He had to admit to himself that the little bit of appeal astrophysics had once had was quickly fading. He sought more, omething more fulfilling that what he was supposed to do. Feeling alive, actually alive wasn't something that usually happened to him, but when he was writing it all changed; it was when all the shitty things that happened just started coming out. Maybe it was time for a change of his own.

That was his problem. There was so much that he wanted, that he wished he could have but he could never make a decision. He could never just reach out and take it. He hated himself a little bit for it. As he approached the shop he actually started thinking about the more pressing things in his life. Things like sandwiches. They had great rye bread, so that was a given. He couldn't decide between tuna and roast beef**,** though. Lost in thought as he was**,** he didn't notice the other man on the sidewalk until he had sent him sprawling to the ground.

"Aw, shit, man, sorry. Gabriel?"

"Heya Sam. No worries. Lost in your head**,** there?" Sam held out his hand to help Gabriel up, pulling back quickly.

"Yeah, yeah a bit. Just headed to get lunch."

"Ooh, where at?"

"Sandwich shop, three doors down."

"Never been."

"Well, you should join me**,** then."

"Alright." Roast beef it was then. Gabriel fell into step beside Sam. They reached the counter of the shop, and ordered their food.

"Let me pay," Sam said on impulse. Gabe looked as if he was going to argue, before sighing in defeat.

"Alright then. I get the next one."

"Fair enough." They settled into a table with their food.

"How are you**,** Sam?"

"I'm alright. Been a crazy few weeks, with Cas and the baby and then Dean's appeal for guardianship being denied."

"Wow, my brother and what?" Sam froze for a second. Gabriel apparently had not been informed of his nephew's existence.

"Nothing. Nothing."

"Cat's out of the bag, Sam. My brother has a _baby_?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah. Kinda. He's adorable and happy. And I should really be letting Cas tell you this."

"He'll tell me when he's ready."

"Yeah, right. Right."

"You're more nervous than a cow up for slaughter."

"How've you been?"

"Good. Strange to be in one place for a while. Then again**,** sometimes I think I've been travelling for too damn long."

"Maybe you have. Maybe it's time you settle down."

"Not quite sure I'm the settling type. Married to my job and what not. Besides**,** I'm fairly certain I've shown that family isn't quite my forte."

"Family isn't anyone's forte. We make do with what we have."

"Right you are there." They finished their lunch, placing the baskets on the rim above the trash can. They walked out together, pausing at the corner where they would part ways- Gabriel back to work, Sam back to the apartment, in case Meg decided to drop Rebel off early as she had done last week. Sam felt himself reluctant to leave, but just as reluctant to say something.

"Sam?"

"I'm right here."

"This was the most relaxing lunch I've had in a very long time."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I'd like to do it again sometime." Sam tried to keep the smile of his face at Gabriel's words.

"Yeah**,** I would too. Does Monday sound alright?" He realized belatedly just how overeager he sounded.

"I have a lunch meeting then. Tuesday?"

"That sounds perfect. Same place?"

"Yes. You were right. They do have good sandwiches."

"I look forward to it."

"As do I." Gabriel grinned wide at him before turning and walking across the street. As Sam waited for his own light to turn he felt himself bouncing on the balls of his feet, mood lighter than before. Maybe this was the change he needed.

Several hours later**,** as he prepared dinner- nachos- he realized he should probably tell Cas what happened. Dean was at the table thumbing through a book full of diagrams Sam had no interest in trying to wrap his head around, while Cas played with Rebel. It was uncomfortably picturesque; a scene Sam couldn't quite bring himself to trust.

"I ran into Gabriel today**.**"

"Oh, how was he?" Cas barely looked towards him.

"He was alright. You hadn't told him about Rebel."

"No, I had not. I'm assuming he is now aware."

"I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't know you didn't want him to know, and well, it wasn't my place to tell him."

"I appreciate the apology Sam, but as I didn't tell you I didn't wish my brother to know just yet, I don't think I can be angry with you."

"Right." Sam wondered if he should mention his lunch date with Gabriel, if that's what it even was or if he should keep it to himself for the time being. Dean interrupted before he could make a decision.

"As much as I hate to break up the chick flick moment**,** when's dinner going to be done?"

"Give the cheese time to melt."

"Sam, I haven't eaten since breakfast. Give me something." Sam chucked one of the unsliced black olives at Dean.

"About ten minutes."

"Thanks," Dean said around the olive. As soon as he swallowed he reached across the table for the baby. Cas handed him over automatically. Rebel cooed happily when he realized he'd been transferred to Dean's arms.

"Yeah. We're happy to see you too. You get to meet Anna and Balthazar next weekend. You're going to love them."

"What time are they going to be here by the way?" Sam asked from his post by the counter.

"About three on Saturday. I think we'll just set them up on the living room floor?"

"Alright."

**A/N: As always thanks to my wonderful beta, KillerKueen. I'll see you all in about 3 weeks!**


	12. Chapter 12

Dean was stretched out on the couch, eyes closed, counting to sixty. He swore he could feel his phone twitch in his pocket. He had been twitchy himself ever since he had gotten up. Balthazar and Anna would be there that weekend, and it was just after one on Thursday now.

Rebel was on the floor next to the couch. He was mastering turning himself over and was quite proud of the accomplishment. Dean reached down and picked Rebel up, placing him on his chest. Rebel opened and closed his fist, grabbing onto Dean's t-shirt. He put the thumb on his opposite hand into his mouth.

Meg had dropped him off early, again, yesterday, throwing Cas into a tizzy when he'd been called into work that morning. Dean had offered to take over daddy duty that afternoon, grateful for the distraction. A crease appeared between Rebel's eyes and Dean could see the hunger cry coming on. He stood up, keeping the baby cradled close to his chest. As he reached the kitchen he shifted Rebel to one arm and heated a bottle, searching for the formula. Rebel let out a wail.

"I'm workin' on it buddy. I'm workin' on it." Dean said as he bounced the baby up and down. His words were ineffectual in easing Rebel's distress but it was the best he could offer in lieu of an actual bottle. The bouncing seemed to soothe him a bit**,** though. Eventually the bottle was at an appropriate temperature to be consumed. Dean coaxed the bottle into Rebel's mouth who began sucking greedily.

The doorbell rang and he made his way to the door, unable to put the baby down. He managed to get the door open and Balthazar and Anna rushed unceremoniously in, child-sized suitcases in tow Dean sidestepped them and grinned at the exasperated looking Leah leaning against the doorframe.

"They are yours for the weekend. Please take them."

"Giving you a rough time?" Dean asked with a grin.

"They've been bouncing off the walls all week. And who's this little guy?"

"This is Rebel. He's my roommate's." Dean paused to shift the baby to burp him. "His mama dropped him off yesterday instead of today and Cas had to work." Rebel let out a small burp.

"He's adorable. May I?"

"Yeah." Dean handed Leah the baby and moved to let her inside. As soon as the baby was out of his arms he felt his siblings wrap around him. He ducked down to hug them.

"Hey guys."

"Hi." Anna grinned at him. Balthazar had wandered over to where Leah was sitting.

"Who's that?"

"That's Rebel. He's Cas' son."

"He's not replacing us then?"

"Not at all."

"He has the bluest eyes I've ever seen," Leah cut in.

"Yeah. They're his dad's." Anna and Balthazar moved out the room. Dean figured they couldn't get into too much- he had made sure the door to Sam's room was locked.

"You gonna be ok with the three of them?" Dean realized she was likely still there because she was worried about his ability to handle all three of them at the same time. He suppressed a surge of irrational anger; he couldn't blame her. The three of them would be a handful.

"Yeah. Cas'll be home at six and Sam should be back at, well**,** he'll be back. It's his night to make dinner."

"Dean, it is ok to ask for help."

"I know. We really will be fine. That little guy needs to go down for a nap soon. Get them settled in. Time will fly." Dean said it with a soft smile. He understood logically her reluctance to leave them- it was a step, maybe even a big one. They were her kids. He could accept that. He didn't have to like it.

"Ok. I'll be by Sunday afternoon. Call if they need anything. Or if you do."

He hated the complicated relationship circumstances forced him to have with Leah. The resentment that came with her raising his siblings. That he couldn't do it, or in an ideal world that John couldn't do it. The incredible amount of gratitude he couldn't express because she _was_ doing it. That sometimes she took care of him too. He wanted it to be simple. To have a friend.

"Yeah of course. Enjoy your kid free weekend." He offered a suggestive wink and she laughed.

"Good luck, Dean."

"Anna, Balthazar." He called out, knowing they'd come. They scurried in from wherever in his apartment they had been exploring.

"I'm headed out. Behave for your brother," Leah added unnecessarily.

"We will," Anna promised.

"Yep." Balthazar agreed.

"See you guys Sunday." Leah left, and Dean shut the door softly behind her.

"So you guys are stuck with me for the next two and a half days."

"What're we going to do?" Balthazar apparently was ridiculously overeager to be there. Despite his energy Dean was glad to see he was going to act like a normal six year old this weekend. It wasn't something he got to see enough of- whenever he did get to see his brother he was always talking about his latest drawing or painting. He was grateful that Balthazar took advantage of what was apparently natural talent but he worried that he missed out on some of the things other kids did.

"Well**,** first we're going to get you settled in." They groaned, not wanting to be practical. "First though, I'm going to get Rebel here down for a nap. He's in for an exciting weekend."

They perked up a bit at the promise of an exciting weekend. Dean realized it had been less than five minutes and he was already exhausted. He carried Rebel to the nursery and laid him down, silently asking him to go down easy for his afternoon nap, something he had (to everyone's slight dismay) been fighting for the past few days. Dean sat the mobile spinning and the kid must have been tired because in less than a minute his eyes were drooping closed. He smiled and left the room, clicking on the baby monitor and closing the door halfway.

"Alright. First things first. Who gets the sleeping bag and who gets the couch bed?" Dean had considered just tossing them both on the couch bed but then remembered his childhood with Henry- sharing the couch bed at his grandparent's place and the ensuing 2 AM fights when one of them stole the covers. He decided to spare himself the headache and keep them separate from the get go. They glanced at each other, neither willing to speak first.

"I-" Anna began.

"Anna, what if you choose what I want?"

"I'm the oldest so I get first choice."

"By that logic, I'm the oldest so I should get first choice." Dean staved off the impending fight expertly.

"What do you choose then?"

"My bed."

"I want the couch bed." Anna said firmly.

"Fine." Balthazar pouted but Dean knew he was secretly pleased to get the sleeping bag. He loved camping, even if it was just on the living room floor.

"All right. Let's get the sheets." Dean walked to the linen closet, two sets of small footsteps marching behind him. He lifted Balthazar to get the sheets off the top shelf, and they set to making the bed. He tossed the scratchy wool blanket with the satin edge everyone has (but no one knows where they got) down on the bed. Anna wrinkled her nose.

"Sorry, squirt. It's what we got."

"Could be worse." Dean tried to visually cringe as he remembered the time he had sold his mattress and Anna's to buy food for the month and pay the mortgage. He doubted she remembered it, but she had slept in a bundle of blankets piled on the floor for two weeks before he had found a cheap mattress at Goodwill. He had slept on the floor for six months before he found another.

"Yeah it could." Dean heard the door crack open and he turned to look. "Hey Sam."

"Hey."

"Where you get off to?"

"Class," Sam said with a shrug. Dean was so shocked he forgot, for just a minute, that his siblings were in the room.

"You, you actually went to class?"

"It's hardly a crime."

"It's practically unheard of."

"Want to have a strong semester. Damn participatory grade"

"Right."

"Hey Anna, Balthazar." They had slipped behind Dean when Sam walked in. He hadn't thought much of them not warming to Sam the day of the hearing. Sam wasn't always the most graceful when it came to meeting new people and Cas radiated calm even on his worst days. Given the stressful situation Dean hadn't blamed them for gravitating to Cas. Now he realized it may actually be a problem and he hoped that warmed up when they realized Sam was just a puppy disguised in a Sasquatch's body.

"Guys, say hi," Dean prompted.

"Hi," Anna whispered the bolder of the two as usual.

"Balthazar."

"Hi." It was barely audible.

"How've you guys been?" Sam was cheery, trying to coax them out of their shells.

"We're ok."

"Where's Rebel at?" Sam turned his attention to Dean.

"He went down for a nap a few minutes ago. Went willing too."

"Just a rough few days then?"

"Apparently so."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Balth?"

"Why is he so big?"

"Balthazar! That was rude and you know it!" Dean forced himself to scold his brother, despite the quivering lip that presented itself as soon as he said the name.

"Sorry, Sam."

"Its fine, I get it a lot." Sam was quick to forgive, most of the time. The grudges he did hold ran deep. He knew that about himself, but still figured it never hurt to remind himself of it.

"Can I go draw until dinner?"

"Yeah, sure." Dean hit his head against a mental wall. Balthazar was, shy he guessed was the right word**,** though he suspected withdrawn would become a better word soon. It was difficult enough to coax him out of his self-imposed shell when he was comfortable and Dean knew he wasn't quite settled yet. It may not have been the most polite thing to leave his brother's mouth but at least he had said something. He tried to let it roll off as he watched Balthazar pull out his sketchbook, Anna settled into next to Sam watching him unpack the groceries he had hauled in.

"Thought it was Cas' week to get stuff."

"It is. Needed some for tonight though, and since he has to work..."

"Right. Keep it simple."

"Uh huh."

Sam finished putting away the groceries and soon thereafter Rebel woke with a piercing cry. Dean stood with a sigh and let out another when he saw the reason for Rebel's distress.

"Sammy!" he called knowing Sam would respond. A few seconds later concerned eyes graced the room.

"What's up?"

"Can you keep an eye on the rugrats for a bit? There's, uh, a major clean-up job here. Spit-up, faulty diaper. Both ends basically."

"Want me to handle it?"

"Already got some on me."

"Ew."

"Yeah." Dean could feel Sam shift into dad mode. Cas had learned it quickly enough, Dean could barely remember a time when he didn't have it, but Sam's acquisition of it had been a surprise. He hadn't needed it, but it was like a switch had flipped as soon as Rebel had come into the house.

"Is he ok? I mean, he's not sick is he?" Dean pressed the back of his hand to the baby's forehead.

"I think he's fine. I'll check once I get him cleaned up though."

"Ok. I got the kids." Sam made his way to the living room where Balthazar was drawing and Anna was intently poking him, trying to get him to mess up.

"How do you guys feel about cookies?" It was the first thing he thought of and as they responded with unparalleled enthusiasm he found himself hoping they had chocolate chips.

"Shouldn't we wait for Dean?" Anna asked, as Sam hunted for a snickerdoodle recipe (chocolate chips were nowhere to be found).

"He's getting Rebel cleaned up"

"He likes cookies though."

"Which is why we're going to surprise him." Anna chewed her lip, a trait she shared with Dean.

"Ok then." Sam pulled down a large mixing bowl and started rummaging around for cookie sheets. He wondered if there would be enough cookies to bring to lunch with Gabe Tuesday. It was starting to become a regular thing and Sam couldn't say he was opposed to it, or the texts that littered his phone's inbox at least once a day, half of which couldn't even be justified with a response.

Sam was happy, for once that things hadn't gone exactly to plan. His problems hadn't gone away, but for the first time in years it felt like they were balanced out by the good things. Grinning he turned his attention back to the kids as the recipe finished loading.

Did they have corn syrup? Yes they did, because Dean for reasons unknown to him had needed it for the beef stroganoff he had made three weeks ago. The more pressing question was if they had vanilla extract- an implement used almost exclusively in baking, something their apartment had agreed by the necessity of not burning down the building - was almost universally banned. He hunted in the backs of the cabinet and fortunately there was some there. He tried not to think of how old it might be, knowing it at least predated Dean and Cas moving in.

A few minutes later Sam found himself covered in egg, flour, and sugar. The kitchen and the kids hadn't fared much better, but on two liberally greased cookie sheets there were two dozen snickerdoodle cookies ready to be popped into the oven.

Sam cracked the oven door and transferred the cookies in, remembering to set the timer. He glanced at the pile of dishes, hoping in vain they could wait until after dinner. He knew he needed to do them so he armed the kids with wet rags and hoped they managed to get most of the mess up. He filled the sink with hot water and wrinkled his nose at the rapidly cooling cookie dough. He had about half the dishes done when Dean emerged holding a clean smiling Rebel.

"Dean we made cookies!" Sam turned back around, but smiled. Balthazar didn't seem like he was easily excitable, and Sam couldn't blame himself if a surge of pride shot through his chest at the display of enthusiasm.

"I smell them. I can't wait to try them. What kind are they?"

"Snickerdoodle!" Anna cut in. "We're gonna have to put cin'mn and sugar on them when they get out though." Dean put Rebel in his high chair, and grabbed the drying towel from the fridge handle.

"Excellent!"

"How's Rebel doing?"

"Just fine. Perfectly content now that he's clean."

"Reasonable. What time is Cas supposed to be home?"

"Uh, four-thirty I think," Dean provided, not entirely sure. Sam glanced at the clock.

"What time do you think he's going to want dinner?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Well, in an ideal world it would've been ready when I walked in."

"Holy shit**,** Cas! Did you just appear or something?" Cas merely shrugged.

"Dean, you said a bad word." Dean directed his eyes downward towards Anna.

"I guess I owe a nickel to the swear jar?"

"It's a quarter. Inflation."

"Right." Dean had to suppress a laugh, and dug around in his pocket for the quarter. He looked at his roommates, shrugging as if to say what can you do. Cas had made his way over to Rebel and was unbuckling him from the high chair.

"Hey little man, you smell a lot cleaner than you did when I left this morning."

"An exploded diaper required bath time be pushed up immediately." Cas wrinkled his nose.

"I can't say I'm upset to have missed that."

"No one is ever upset to miss an exploded diaper. Or spit-up."

"An eventful day then?"

"The apartment population has doubled." Dean couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"Do we have six plates?"

"Sam, one of us doesn't eat solid food yet."

"Right."

They settled into making dinner. Rather Sam did, giving Dean and Anna odd jobs that needed to be done. Somehow most of them ended up being grating cheese. Cas settled into a chair with Rebel on his lap, and per Balthazar's orders not able to move until he finished the sketch.

They did eventually make it to the eating part of dinner. Initially wary of baked mac and cheese the kids had devoured half of it once they tasted it. Cas apparently had had a rough day at work (especially given he wasn't supposed to work anyway) but his bad mood dissipated quickly. In fact Sam couldn't remember the last time he had been this happy. It was like being a part of a family. A large, dysfunctional family, but one nonetheless. And maybe family wasn't so bad, at least not as bad as he had been led to believe.

The next morning didn't go quite as smoothly. Sam had figured he had been quite self-sacrificing the night before by not only not going out and coming back hammered but staying in and enduring Lilo and Stitch. The movie hadn't actually been that bad, but he had dignity, and crying at a kid's movie on his Friday night was not how he intended to spend it. Anna, it turned out, was not a morning person (Sam was already counting down the days until he could force a cup of coffee into her hands like he did with her brother) while Balthazar was almost manic. Still a bit overstimulated and having missed his middle of the night feeding, Rebel woke early, to Cas' slight dismay. French toast, bacon, eggs, and a glass of spilled orange juice later, Sam was glad to volunteer for dish duty as Dean and Cas packed up the kids to head to the park.

"It's exhausting. Having them all day." Dean commented. They were sitting on the grass, Rebel on a blanket next to them, Anna and Balthazar in easy sight, chasing each other around the slide.

"Of course it is. The question is if it's worth it."

"Every day, every glass of orange juice, every fight."

"Then keep fighting, Dean." Cas placed a hand on Rebel's back, who continued his squirming on the blanket, squinting up at the sunlight filtering through the leaves.

"Yeah." A shrill ringing sounded, and Dean picked up his phone, not recognizing the number.

"Hello?" He paused, and forced himself to inhale before answering. "Yes, it is." Another pause; he listened, trying to keep himself calm. "I'll be there as soon as possible." Cas looked at him concerned.

"Is everything ok?"

"My dad was in a car accident. Things, they don't look good, Cas."

**A/N: Hi! I'm back. And a nice painful cliffhanger accompanies me. As for anything else, reviews make me happy (especially when they're constructive criticism) and Europe was great (except Milan. Meh.)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: The work of ee cummings belongs to the copyright holder of that work. Also there's a hint of timey-wimeness in this chapter. Please bear with me. It's necessary. (Also some sexiness is coming up so shield your eyes, kiddies)**

Sam stretched himself across the couch the best he could. With Cas and Dean at the park it was almost like having the apartment back to himself, with the addition of a few baby toys scattered about. The dishes were done, and the apartment was as clean as it ever was anymore. He felt entitled to sit back and relax for a few minutes. He hadn't realized just how chaotic having three people under the age of ten in the apartment would be. If he was being honest he didn't mind it as much as he was pretending he did. After a bit though he got bored and flipped his phone on and dialed.

"Hey, Gabe. I'm home alone for a few hours. Want to come over?"

"I'll be there in ten, Samsquatch."

"God, don't call me that." He hung up, and smiled. He was, tentatively, happy. The jury was still out. He hadn't told anyone about Gabe, and their, uh, evolving relationship just yet. He was new to the whole being with a guy thing, and apparently Gabe didn't have much more experience in that area. They were learning together.

He found himself missing Amelia less and less these days. She was no longer a constant presence in the back of his mind. It meant using less and less. He had even refrained from going out last night, something that hadn't happened in years. Maybe, he thought, he would just accidently become sober, and wouldn't have to make the conscious decision to do it.

Right on time, ten minutes later, Gabe buzzed up. Sam was waiting by the door trying not to seem too overexcited. He swung open the door before the second knock though.

"Hey."

"Hi." Sam moved aside to let him in to the living room.

"Lots of baby toys**,** eh?"

"It happens. Dean's siblings are here for the weekend, too so it's kinda crazy."

"Crazy is good." The pair walked down the hall, turning into Sam's room. Gabe flopped onto Sam's bed, loosening his tie.

"I kinda like it. It's working for us." Sam lowered himself down next to him, smiling when Gabe curled into his side, head on his shoulder.

"I'm liking this."

"Yeah. Me too."

Gabriel hauled himself up, kissing Sam, who willingly reciprocated. Sam was surprised when fingers tangled in his hair and a tongue sought permission to lick into his mouth. He smiled into the kiss before parting his lips, allowing him access. While Gabe busied himself learning Sam's mouth again, Sam rolled himself over, pinning Gabe to the bed, settling between his legs.

Sam was still uncertain about the physical aspects of their relationship. Even this was pushing the carefully constructed boundaries he had put up. He knew he had been lying to himself when it came to the whole being straight thing, at least when it came to Gabe. That didn't mean he was full on prepared to jump into this stuff. He suddenly realized he was overthinking _sex_ and got his head back into the moment.

Sam broke the kiss, working his way down his neck, trying to pull Gabe's shirt out from his pants. Gabe's own hands were working under his t-shirt, and got it worked up under his armpits. He ran his hands down along his abs and Sam bit back a moan.

"God, Gabe. Tryin' to kill me."

"You're no good to me dead, sugar."

Gabriel rolled his hips up into him. Sam worked frantically at the buttons, just wanting skin, limitations be damned. That was when the phone rang.

"Goddamn it, Cas. Cockblock." He accepted the call though. "Cas."

"We're at the hospital."

"God. What happened?"

"Dean's father was in a car crash. If you would come, it would be helpful."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

_A few hours earlier_

Dean forced himself to take a deep breath. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. John was supposed to die, passed out in a puddle of his own vomit. He wasn't dead though, not yet, and he wouldn't be. Not for a very long time**,** if Dean could help it.

"Cas, get them in the car. I need to call Leah." Cas nodded and went to get the kids as Dean typed in the name. She picked up after two rings.

"What happened?" Dean detected the note of panic in her voice. He ran a hand over his face before speaking.

"The kids, the kids are fine."

"Oh**,** thank God."

"I just got a call from the hospital. My dad was in a car accident. Can you come get them from there? I swear I won't let them near him, but it's not good. I, I need to be there."

"Sure. And Dean, this is me giving consent. If he's awake and wants to see them- if the kids are ok with it**-** it's fine. Just use your judgment."

"Thanks." Dean hung up as Balthazar and Anna picked their way through the playground, obviously unwilling to leave. Dean froze for a second, suddenly unsure of what to tell them.

"We just got here. Why do we have to leave?" Anna asked. Cas was packing up the baby.

"Dad was in a bad accident and I have to go and take care of stuff."

"That means we don't get to stay with you." She said it so matter of factly it threw him; that part hadn't even occurred to him, even though he had already made the call. Dean found himself feeling guilty for more reasons than he could immediately put his finger on.

"Leah is going to be at the hospital in a little bit. I'm so sorry guys."

"Do we get to see him?" Anna demanded it in such a small voice Dean almost didn't hear her. It had taken a lot of courage for her to pose the question aloud. She missed him, even if he had made things harder for them. She didn't let on too much- Balthazar didn't really remember and Leah, well, she tried, but she couldn't understand, not really. Anna also knew better than to let on that she saw the pain in her brother's eyes and that she heard the little sigh he let out so often before speaking.

"We'll see when we get there, Anna."

"Ok." Cas had finished packing up Rebel as they talked. They made their way to the car; Dean hurrying along in the lead.

The hospital was stark and tan, even from the outside. Dean could feel despair radiating out from it. He had to bit his tongue to keep from telling Cas not to bring Rebel in lest he become tainted. He told himself to man up, pull it together. If not for himself then the two little children in the car with him. He forced himself out of the car and when Anna and Balthazar grabbed onto his hands he found himself grateful. The small group made it through the front doors, and Dean wheeled around looking for reception. Castiel grabbed his shoulders and steered him in the right direction.

"May I help you?"

"I'm looking for John Winchester. He was brought in?" The receptionist tapped on her keyboard for a few minutes.

"And you are?"

"His son."

"They're still in surgery. I'll have someone take you up."

"Thanks." Dean tried to suppress the surge of panic. Try as he might to worry about only his father's health, he couldn't keep the thought of the financial burden this visit would bring down on them from his mind Anna sat on Dean's feet, and despite the fact that Balthazar really was getting a bit to big Dean picked him up anyway, and Balthazar immediately snuffled into his shoulder. Cas stood nearby, absently rocking Rebel's stroller as the baby slept. They were getting settled in when a nurse came down, and after confirming their identity sat them down in a waiting room.

"Cas, I'll be right back. Uh, bathroom." Cas nodded. Dean stood up and left. Once he got to the bathroom he leaned against the sink, and looked at himself in the mirror. For the first time in a very long time he actually looked at himself. He realized he looked much older than his twenty years. The dark circles were etched permanently into his face, the lines beneath them maybe still erasable. Crow's feet had begun to set in, and the corners of his mouth were much deeper than either Cas' or Sam's. His eyes too, were sad, worn with years of too much caring with too little result. They were also shiny with tears he was determined to leave unshed.

"It's not that bad, Winchester. Get it together." He forced himself to splash some cold water on his face. He dried it off aggressively with a crumbling paper towel and made his way back to the waiting room. Cas looked up and smiled softly. Balthazar was kicking at his seat, while Anna was curled up like a cat.

"Balthazar, stop kicking the seat." He stopped without argument. Dean realized it was because he sounded sad, not angry. Dean forced himself to sit next to Cas.

"Dean-"

"Save it, Cas."

"Alright."

They sat in silence for a long while. Dean knew it had been less than three hours as Leah was still nowhere to be found. His siblings were sitting quietly. He tried to think of a way to comfort them, but found himself unable. He couldn't even comfort himself. He had no idea what was going on and no control over it.

"Cas, give me something. I can't take this anymore."

"Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness; the truth more first than sun more last than star**.**"

"Cummings again?"

"He's provided some useful quotations."

"Thanks, Cas. It actually kind of helps."

"Anytime." Dean tried to settle himself enough to think about the quote that Cas had thrown at him. Before he could get too deep into it a scrub nurse walked in.

"Winchester?"

"Yeah?" He stood, and crossed the room.

"John Winchester is still in surgery. We will be able to repair most of the damage, but ultimately it's going to be up to him whether he makes it. There was extensive damage done, and given the state his liver is in-." She cut herself off abruptly.

"Right. Of course."

"We'll come get you when he's out."

"Thank you." Dean returned to his seat, plopping down gracelessly.

"I'll be right back. Rebel needs changed." Cas said suddenly**.**

"I'll be here, Cas." A couple of minutes later Sam walked in towing Gabriel behind him. Dean glanced up, not registering the suspicious mussing of Sam's hair.

"Hey. Cas called. Have you heard anything?"

"He has some internal injuries. He's still in surgery so I don't really know much yet. It doesn't sound good though."

"I'm sorry."

"I'll make it through, Sammy. Don't have a choice."

"We'll make it through. You aren't alone, Dean. Not in this."

"Thanks."

**A/N: So first off a huge thanks to my wonderful beta KillerKueen who had to talk me into publishing this chapter. It was a rough write. And thanks for sticking with the story- I'd love to hear what you think!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Warning: This chapter contains major triggers for child abuse, child neglect, panic attacks and drug/alcohol abuse**

Cas simply nodded at his brother and Sam when he returned. Half an hour after Sam and Gabriel arrived Leah appeared in the door looking concerned.

"Hi," Sam said, sounding surprised. Dean looked up.

"Leah." Dean dragged himself from the chair and wrapped her in a hug.

"We're going to take the kids to get a snack." Cas knew. Of course Cas knew. With Sam's help and an enthusiastic Gabe asking the kids about their favorite sweets**,** they disappeared to the nook down the hall with the vending machines. Leah carefully enveloped him and the tears he had been fighting for hours came, seeming to fight to get out at the same time.

"I got you, Dean. I got you. Just let it out."

"I can feel it in my bones. He's not going to make it."

"It's ok to be scared."

"I used to wish for this when I was teenager. That he'd just get into an accident or something and I'd be free. That stopped when they took the kids away but now that I'm actually faced with it, with maybe actually losing him.

"I've never told him that despite everything he's put us through, the hell we went through**,** its ok. I don't blame him. He's my dad and I love him." Dean was aware he was shaking and of the tears staining his face, his runny nose. Leah just stood there, a soothing a hand on his back as he sobbed in her shoulder.

"Hey. He's going to be fine. All better and back to his usual crap by summer."

"You're probably right. Damn it, why are you always right?"

"I'm a mom." She said it with a wry smile. She glanced at Dean, whose face had fallen even more. "Sorry, that was insensitive."

"No, no. Just haven't had a mom in a long time. And you are too good to me."

"Someone needs to take care of you sometimes too."

"Thank you."

"How is he doing, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He's, well**,** we really don't know yet. There are some internal injuries and he's still in surgery. The nurse made it sound like it was pretty bad."

"He will be ok, Dean."

"I know, I know."

"And you'll let me know when you have another free weekend. They deserve some time with you. Actual time."

"I will. Listen, I know it's a lot to ask, but when he wakes up, when he's stable**,** do you think you could bring them to see him? We know he'll be sober and I think it'd mean a lot to him. And Anna, well the first thing out of her mouth was if they'd get to see him."

"We'll see how it goes. I'm sure we can work something out."

"Thank you."

"Do you want us to wait here?"

"No. Just take them home. I'm gonna send Sam and Cas home as soon as they get back. They'll let you in to get their things."

"You shouldn't be alone."

"I'll be fine."

"Alright. When you hear something-"

"I'll call. I think it may be awhile."

"Whenever."

"Alright." The group came traipsing back in.

"Hey guys."

"Cas, Sam you guys can head home. Leah is going to take the kids and there's not a lot going on here."

"I'm afraid I will have to leave. I wasn't planning on being away so long, and Rebel has needs."

"Its fine, Cas. Just let them in so they can get their stuff."

"Of course."

"I'm staying. We can't just leave you alone." Dean smiled at Sam, too tired to argue before turning his attention to Gabriel who seemed torn between Sam and Cas.

"I'm gonna head back with Cassie. Get to know my little nephew." Sam smiled covertly at him as they left.

Dean collapsed back onto the chair after hugging his siblings goodbye and promising they could come back. This wasn't supposed to happen. They'd already been through enough. It was all he could think. John Winchester was a lot of things, including a crappy father Dean could admit, but underneath it all, before Mary had left, before things got bad he had been a good man. Now he found himself hopping John could start to pull it together.

"Thanks for staying, Sam."

"No one should be alone in the hospital."

"You and Gabriel, huh?"

"I don't think now is really the time."

"Need something to distract me. Does Cas know?"

"I think at this point Gabe and I barely know. I mean three months ago I didn't even know I was attracted to guys."

"No worries. My lips are sealed."

"Thanks."

"Just make sure to tell him before he finds out the hard way."

"We will. You doing ok?"

"All things considered- could be worse. He'll be ok."

"Dean."

"Listen, I'm realistic. I may have a fantasy he's going to change and we're going to magically be a family again, but I know it's not going to happen. But he's not going to die or anything." Sam nodded, realizing reassuring Dean was more necessary than pointing out just how long John had been in surgery.

"Right. Listen; don't worry about rent next month."

"I can't, Sam. I made an agreement. I can, I _will_ honor that."

"It's not a big deal. I got roommates to help, uh,to help me pay for stuff I'm not using a lot of these days. I could make rent before."

"Still. I can't."

"I'm not saying you _can't_ do it. I'm just saying I know money is tight and hospital trips aren't cheap."

"I appreciate the gesture. I really do."

"Winchester?" Dean looked up at the sound of his name. A woman in blue scrubs was looking at him expectantly. Dean took a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst.

"We'll talk about it later."

"Right." Dean crossed the room forcing himself not to panic.

"Hi."

"Hello. I'm Doctor Morgan."

"Dean Winchester," he said stiffly.

"Your father is out of surgery. He was seriously injured. The internal bleeding is stopped, however he will likely need further surgeries to repair additional injuries and to remove the tube we placed to drain fluid from his abdominal cavity. Our orthopedic team put metal rods in both his right arm and leg."

"He's going to be ok?" The doctor appraised Dean's face before speaking.

"Your father is in critical condition. He's on a ventilator and is heavily sedated. He could very well recover fully; I've seen much sicker patients recover, but in all reality it will depend largely on him. We'll do everything we can of course, but I don't wish to deemphasize the severity of his injuries."

"Can I see him?"

"Yes, follow me. He's not awake."

"I just wantto see-"

"I understand. And Mr. Winchester**,** I realize it's none of my business, but may I offer some advice?"

"Go for it."

"After you see your father, go home and try to get some sleep. The last person I saw who looked like they needed a good night's sleep more than you was an intern getting off a forty hour shift."

"I'll try." Dean turned to his roommate. "Sammy?"

"I'll be here when you're done."

"Right." Dean followed Dr. Morgan beyond the set of double doors he had been determinedly not looking at for the past several hours. She stopped in front of a room and cracked the door.

"I'll give you some time."

"Thanks" Dean forced a smile as he caught the proffered door and closed it gently behind him. All the clichés fluttered through his mind- small, lost, frail. The truth was though the man on the bed in a hospital gown attached to a ventilator was none of those things. The word Dean finally settled on was gray. John Winchester looked gray. He crossed the room and pulled the chair across the floor to his bedside.

"Hey Dad. I don't really know if you can hear me right now. I didn't really think to ask. You just got out of surgery though and they said they're keeping you pretty heavily sedated so probably not. Uh, I don't know if you were drinking, or if the crashing was your fault or what happened.

"Maybe I don't want to know. I think I want to be in the dark this time. I've known all the gory details for far too long. I just want to be your son this time. I want you to realize that's all I ever should have been. And I'm sitting here saying this crap but I'm already thinking about how the hell I'm going to pay for this and if I should take Sam's rent offer. It's not going to change anything, not really. I'm not naïve enough to believe that, not anymore.

"But Anna is, Dad. The first damn thing she asked when I told them you'd been in an accident was if they'd get to see you. I mean the only reason I take care of you anymore is because I feel obliged to, it's habit, but Anna loves you. Balthazar doesn't really remember you, but I think Anna tells him stories. If, _when_ you wake up maybe Leah will bring them in, if you want to see them.

"I know things haven't been good, not for a long time, but could you try? For them. I'm a lost cause. But they're bright and vibrant. Anna's sharp, witty. She has your humor, or at least your humor from when you were sober. Balthazar has mom's eyes, and he can draw so well. I don't know if I ever told you that.

"I'm doing my best. Working two jobs, going to school, mostly to appease Bobby if I'm being honest, but the man's done a lot for me; done a lot for you too, even if you don't remember most of it. More of a dad to me then you were. I'm tired, Dad. More tired than I have any right to be at twenty.

"I don't even know why I'm saying this crap. You wouldn't care, even if you could hear me. I'm going to take care of you though. It's gonna be ok. I promise. I'll be back tomorrow."Dean moved the chair back to the wall, ignoring the tear running down his face. Before he left he paused again at John's bedside. "I do love you, you know." He went to the waiting room.

"Let's go home, Sammy." Sam glanced up and stood.

"Ok."

John woke up on Wednesday. Disoriented and in pain**,** the first thing he asked about was his son. Dean got the call as he exited class. He dropped his phone sparking Cas, who had been standing about 20 feet away to jog over, assuming the worst.

"He's fine. He's awake. He's asking for me."

"Go."

"Yeah." Cas smiled as Dean walked heavily away. He hoped his friend would be ok; that John would be ok and would against all odds pull it together for his children.

Dean jogged towards the Impala, dialing Leah as he got in. He could barely contain his happiness. She didn't pick up. Dean realized **s**he was probably at work.

"Hey Leah. It's Dean. Dad's awake. If he's feeling up to it maybe you could bring the kids by this weekend? Call me back."

Dean hurried to the hospital, but when he was confronted with the actual task of going into his father's room he halted. He was awake. He was talking. He was healing. Finally he forced himself to open the door. They had taken him off the ventilator but the oxygen cannulas poking into his nose still made Dean cringe. He had some color, at least he was more white than gray.

"Hey Dad."

"Hey." Dean wasn't sure why he was so surprised by how hoarse he was.

"How are you?"

"Been better."

"I'd noticed."

"Thanks." Dean forced a laugh and they sat in silence for a few minutes. "I heard you, you know."

"Heard what?"

"What you said. I don't know how or why but I did."

"Shit. Just- it was nothing. I was-"

"No, Dean. You're right. I haven't been there for you. I certainly haven't been there for Anna or Balthazar. I've put more responsibility on you than I have on myself. The fact of it is I can't undo any of it; take it back I can't even promise to get better at being there. That I'll even be able to get better. I can try."

"I didn't want to get your hopes up, but Anna and Balthazar may come this weekend. I haven't heard back from Leah or anything but Anna really wants to see you."

"I would like that."

"Yeah, so uh,"

"You rushed here from school and have to get to work."

"I really want to stay."

"Go, Dean. Do what need to be done. Just come back."

"Yeah. Yeah, I will. Tomorrow."

The next day Dean went to the hospital and actually stayed. John's next surgery was scheduled for Saturday. It was nerve wracking. He remained in the ICU, listed as critical but stable. The reassurance from Leah that she was taking the kids out of school early Friday to bring them to see John had Dean arriving home happy on Thursday. Things were maybe going to be ok. As he unlocked the door and heard a baby crying he realized it was more than likely going to be a long night if Rebel was fussy.

The sight that greeted him as he walked into the living room made him blink several times to be certain that exhaustion wasn't making him hallucinate because what he was seeing absolutely could not be happening. Rebel was still in his carrier, dressed only in a diaper, smudged in dirt and dried fluids Dean immediately identified, his left side mottled purple and blue. Cas sat on the couch; he looked shocked, unable to move.

"Cas, buddy, what's going on?"

"I- she dropped him off like this. Said I did it. That she was going to file charges. Dean I don't know what- I didn't do it." His voice was a rough whisper. Dean sensed he was beyond tears.

"We're gonna get through this Cas. I know you didn't, _couldn't_ do this. Sam knows it too. We're gonna get through this.

"I don't know where to start."

"We're gonna start by getting him cleaned up and fed. I'm guessing he's had a rough week. Then we're going to call a lawyer first thing tomorrow."

"Right. Right. I need to be a father first."

"If you need to freak out-"

"I will later."

"Ok. Do you mind if I call Sam?"

"Go ahead. I'm gonna get a bath ready. Can you bring him in?"

"Yeah." Dean dialed Sam. "Sam. Come home. Now."

"Why? What's going on?"

"I'll explain when you get here."

"On my way." Sam hesitated, sensing this wasn't a moment to try and be a smartass. "I got to the building, actually."

"Ok. Thanks." Dean went over and carefully unhooked the latches on Rebel's carrier. It didn't do much to ease his cries.

"Everything ok in here?" Sam's head poked through the door.

"Sam." Sam came in and made a noise akin to a dying cat when he saw Rebel.

"What did that bitch do?"

"She showed up with him like this. Told Cas it's his fault and that she's pressing charges."

"How's Cas?"

"He's getting Rebel's bath ready."

"So not good?"

"He's holding it together about as well as can be expected."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Know any good lawyers?"

"No, but I know someone who does. I'll make some calls."

"Thanks, Sammy."

"Just get him cleaned up ok?"

"Yeah." Dean turned his attention to the baby. "Let's get you clean." Rebel responded with a piercing scream. Dean made his way over the bathroom where Cas had laid out clean clothes and was currently checking the temperature of the bath water.

"Sam's here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He's making some calls." Dean pulled the tabs on the disposable diaper and nearly gagged at the smell.

"That's- oh God what is that?"

"I don't think Meg has been changing his diaper."

"Get it in the trash!"

"Sam!" Dean tossed the diaper in the trash and passed the baby off to Cas. He heard Sam's heavy footfalls coming down the hall.

"Yeah, Ellen hold on a sec." Sam covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "What's going on?" Dean handed him the trash bag.

"Get this outside."

"Ok?" Sam took the bag and put the phone back to his ear. "Yeah. I'm here."

The warm water didn't do much to placate Rebel. Though Cas was being as gentle as he could the baby was still obviously uncomfortable. Cas tried to quell the panic rising in his chest. Logically he understood Rebel wasn't seriously injured, but his mind kept jumping to the worst. The scenarios in his head kept flipping from horrible but bearable to so horrific he thought he might be sick. He wondered when the last time Rebel had eaten was.

"Cas I think you need to change the water." Cas looked at the bath water, now brown and realized the baby wasn't even half-washed.

"Yeah. Hand me a towel." Cas reached for the plug, keeping one hand on the baby. He placed the towel Dean handed him over Rebel to keep him warm as he readjusted the temperature. Once the tub was refilled, the washing went relatively quickly.

"If you're good here, I'm going to go heat up a bottle."

"Thanks**,** Dean."

A few hours later Rebel was fed and safely ensconced in his crib, sleeping soundly for the time being. The three men were sitting around the table, staring at the table.

"Ellen said she'll look for a good lawyer. She also said she wishes she could advise to not give Rebel back Sunday."

"But I have to."

"Yeah."

"Dean, I'm so sorry. You don't need to be worrying about this with your Dad in the hospital."

"It's not your fault Cas. We'll figure it out."

"I hope you're right."

**A/N: Well, uh, please don't kill me? **


	15. Chapter 15

Dean had to force himself to sleep that night. It seemed like the cloud of hope he had been floating on had dissipated without warning when he had opened the door yesterday and everything that could possibly go wrong flooded his head. John hadn't seen Anna and Balthazar in years. What if he didn't recognize them or asked the wrong questions? What if one of the kids freaked out at the still impressive number of tubes coming out of every orifice? Maybe having them come was a mistake.

Sam didn't fare much better. He had thought maybe these changes were good. That they had stood a chance, and maybe the world he had spent so long trying to escape wasn't so bad. After he had gotten off the phone with Ellen he realized he knew better. Good things didn't happen, at least not in his experience. Ever since he had met Gabriel he thought things were changing. When John had been in the accident Sam had reacted like a normal person. Like something awful, maybe even life-altering had happened to his roommate, not like the universe had a personal vendetta against him. There hadn't been a reason to panic and he hadn't. He had been proud of himself.

Then yesterday happened. Sam had some casual contact with Meg; they ran in the same general circle and he knew she wasn't the most pleasant person. He hadn't given her much thought, but if he hadn't seen Rebel yesterday he wouldn't have believed she was capable of that. His bit of faith in humanity that had been restored over the past few months, fragile as it was, broke. He had been right. Humanity was nothing but a pile of crap.

He hated that he was forced to be a part of this society, this species where things like what washappening to Rebel, to Cas, could happen. He hated being pigeonholed into a designated cutout of what someone else decided life should be when he was five. Maybe he could do something to help change it. It was far too early in the morning for this. God, he needed something to smoke.

Castiel had never fallen asleep. He had sat in Rebel's room, rocking chair pulled close to his crib, watching his child sleep soundly. Slow, steady breaths went uninterrupted by anything resembling pain or panic. Cas realized Rebel wouldn't even remember any of what was happening. That, assuming things went well**, **he likely would have no recollection of his mother.

Cas wasn't an idiot. He knew how these things worked and that he was automatically under more suspicion, not only because Meg was filing charges, automatically putting him on the defensive, but also because mothers were flat out more likely to get custody of a child.It didn't matter that it was inherently illogical for Meg to leave her son with someone she thought was abusing him.

He tried not to think about the little he knew of Dean's childhood. He knew Anna and Balthazar had gotten very lucky, having Dean to keep them from starving, and he strongly suspected, to shield them from their father's drunkenness. He knew if he lost Rebel his son wouldn't have a Dean to protect him from his mother's rage or her inability to care for him. He was going to have to find a way to pull it together.

Rebel woke with a start and a cry promptly at seven, startling Cas from his reverie. Cas tried not to groan as he forced himself to do his job. He promptly changed and fed the baby, before standing in front of the fridge, baby on his hip**,** debating what to make for breakfast. He blinked at the mostly empty fridge. Who was supposed to do the grocery shopping this week?

Sam, having crashed the previous night with his door open had woken up when Rebel started crying. He padded into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes, unused to be awake at such an early hour.He peered over Cas' shoulder and saw the box of baking soda and expired milk.

"Whose turn was it to shop?" Cas demanded. It was far too early, and he had gotten far too little sleep to be anything but demanding.

"It was Dean's, but with everything going on-" Sam found his reply cut short when he had an armful of confused baby looking at him curiously, followed by Cas' back stalking towards Dean's room.

"Dean Winchester get your ass out of bed this instant."

Sam inched out of the kitchen to stand at the end of the hall, out of line of fire, drawn to the scene as he would be to a car crash.

"Cas wass goin' on?" It was a mumbled, sleepy reply. Not entirely incoherent, but Dean certainly hadn't been awake and out of his own head enough yet to be prepared for an onslaught of hungry, tired, angry Cas. Sam honestly felt Cas needed to get the rage he undoubtedly felt about the previous night's event out. He had been far too calm thus far, but he couldn't help but wish the brunt of that anger had been directed at him, or better yet, a good solid punching bag. Dean had enough to deal with, especially today.

"Rebel, I think your daddy's lost it," Sam whispered. The baby didn't respond; he just grabbed a fistful of Sam's hair.

"You were supposed to go grocery shopping this week! There is no food anywhere in this apartment."

"Sorry, man. It's been a crazy week. I'll do it 'fore I head to the hospital."

"You still have responsibilities in this apartment, Dean." Castiel's voice was low and Sam knew Cas knew exactly which nerve he was hitting.

"Don't you dare, Castiel."

"You aren't the only one having troubles." Cas' voice was surprisingly even, considering the anger with which he moved down the hall.

"You aren't an angel either and at least I prioritized my family _before_ they got hurt."

"I can balance my life just fine."

"That's right. You don't have a family to care about."

Sam decided it had gone far enough. He had let them get out some of their frustrations but they were toeing a line that shouldn't be crossed. He strided down the hall.

"Ok. That's enough."

"Get out, Sam!" Dean threw a pillow, causing Sam to turn so the pillow hit his back instead of the baby.

"Did you just throw something at my son?" Cas' voice had gone low and more gravelly than normal.

"I just threw something at Sam." It didn't matter. Cas had thrown himself onto Dean's bed and started throwing punches. Sam glanced down at the suddenly crying baby and cursed his current inability to physically pull them apart.

"Sorry, Rebel, this is going to hurt your ears," he said low, before raising his voice. "All right. Both of you, stop it. Now. Get off of him and pull yourself together.

"Good," he added, once fists stopped flying, but he kept his volume up, just to be safe. "Now here's what's going to happen. We're all going to go out and have a nice civil breakfast where I will tell you all who Ellen is. Then Cas is going to come home, call her, and Dean is going to go to class, followed by the hospital. I will do the grocery shopping. Then tonight I'm going to make dinner and invite Gabriel over and we're going to eat as a fuckingfamily. Do I make myself clear?"

Both boys were frozen on the bed, Dean with a hand raised defensively against the blood dripping from Cas' nose. They blinked in unison, then nodded. Cas hauled himself off of Dean and slunk down the hall to clean himself up, avoiding eye contact. Dean hauled himself out of bed and pulled on yesterday's jeans. He dug around in the closet for a mostly clean t-shirt and realized he hadn't done laundry in a very long time.

"I'll get you some ice for your eye."

"Thanks." Sam left. He shifted Rebel to his hip (he was mostly just whimpering now) and dug the ice pack out of the back of the freezer. The baby was instantly enthralled with it and Sam struggled to keep Rebel from putting it in his mouth as he walked to Dean's room. He knocked.

"It's open."

"Here. Rebel, let go.There. Take it." Sam pried the ice pack out of Rebel's hands and handed it to Dean who pressed it against the tender skin of his cheek.

"Thanks. That was a hell of a wake-up call."

"Yeah. It was. I'm gonna go check on Cas."

"Probably a good idea. I think I may have broken his nose."

"Great." As Sam knocked on the bathroom door he couldn't help but feel he was doing far too much knocking in his own apartment this morning. He hadn't even had coffee yet.

"Go away, Sam." If the words hadn't been more of a muffled garble of consonants he would have left Cas to lick his wounds in peace. However given Dean's suspicion of a broken nose he figured he should push.

"Come on. I just want to make sure we don't need to go to the ER." The door creaked open.

"I'm fine."

"If I could understand what you were saying through the glob of tissues I would be more inclined to believe you."

"I hate you."

"Yes, I'm sure you do. Now let's get you cleaned up."

"You can put Rebel on the floor, if you want."

"Right." Sam sat the baby on the floor and pushed one of the bath toys into his tiny fist.

"The bleeding has mostly stopped."

"Just let me see." Cas grumbled some more, but pulled the mess of tissues away from his face. Sam approached him, and carefully prodded. Cas hissed a couple of times but Sam was reasonably sure it wasn't broken.

"I told you I'm fine."

"Yeah**,** yeah. That's going to hurt for a few days, but your face will be ok."

"Thanks Sam."

"Not a problem. Just try not to get into any more fist fights for a while."

"I think I can manage that. The aftereffects are rather unpleasant."

"Take some ibuprofen."

"I will."

"Are you ok to watch Rebel now? I need to get dressed and I'm starved."

"It won't be a problem."

Sam went to his bedroom and shut the door. He grabbed the pack of cigarettes and lighter off his bedside table and lit one as he sunk onto the floor beside his bed. It had been a stressful morning. He only smoked when he was stressed. It was more the monotony of the routine that calmed him down, not any particular effect the nicotine had. He finished the cigarette and made sure it was out before tossing it in the trashcan. He paused when he heard voices at the end of the hall.

"Cas, I'm sorry about the whole pillow thing. I wasn't even thinking about Rebel or that it could hurt him."

"There was no harm done. I over-reacted to the food situation."

"Still though**,** Cas. I knew you were reacting so dramatically because of well, the situation and I should have known better."

"Dean, really there's no need for us to lay blame. I reacted inappropriately."

"Just shut up and accept my apology."

"Fine."

"Thank you."

"Is your nose ok?"

"Yes. Its sore but I'll be fine. Is your eye alright?"

"I can still see out of it at least."

"You guys ready?" Sam asked as he came down the hall.

"Let's go get some grub," Dean agreed.

As he sat in the passenger seat waiting for Cas to get Rebel strapped in Sam allowed his mind to wander. He was actively aware of what he was missing. His roommates had these little families and it seemed like most of their reactions came from there. With a pang he thought of Amelia and wondered what she was dong. Family didn't determine his worth or sense of self. There was still something missing. He didn't quite feel whole; he hadn't for a very long time. He had been able to ignore it. Unbidden the half-finished document, now perpetually open on his desktop**,** came to mind.

With a clarity Sam was sure he hadn't experienced in years it all came together. It had been building for a while, probably since before he had ever known Dean and Cas, but knowing them was what pushed it over the edge. More had happened in his life in the three months he had known them then the previous 20 years. He wanted to be a writer; he wanted to actually understand metaphors and similes and narrative structures.

"I think I'm going to change my major to creative writing, guys."

"Sure."

"Ok. Good luck with that."

Sam glanced down and picked absently at a forming hangnail. This was a revelation that had been coming on for months and they had barely acknowledged it. Here he was, calling in favors to save their sorry asses and he didn't matter. He had to remind himself he couldn't think like that. They were his friends and he was helping them because he liked them, not because they owed him anything.

They pulled into the diner and got settled, perusing the familiar menus. They talked about classes and the weather and if Dean should make the leek ringshe saw on the Food Network the other day. They ordered their breakfast and acted like there hadn't been a fist fight less than an hour previous. When the food arrived they knew they could avoid talking about things much longer.

"So who's Ellen?" Cas asked around a mouthful of food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full. It's disgusting."

"Shut up, Dean. Well?"

"She's an old friend. Well, initially she was the social worker assigned to me after my first overdose when I was seventeen and scared. We became friends though, in a way. She owns a bar now."

"You called her for legal advice?"

"She still has some contacts. She said so far as lawyers go**,** Rufus Turner is the best there is. Said she'd pull some string, maybe ply him with a few free beers, see if he'll take the case pro bono."

"I'll give him a call."

"She said you also might want to think about hiring a PI."

"Very film noir," Dean joked, earning him two death glares. "Sorry. Inappropriate."

"Did she give a name?"

"Victor Henricksen. Said he's a right bastard most of the time, but he's good at his job."

"I'll think about it. Really depends on paying the lawyer. I'll call Ellen. Talk it over with her."

"That'd probably be the best idea."

"Crap. What time is it?" Dean asked. They had spent some time eating in silence. Sam's food had started get cold as he monolouged and chewing the rubbery scrambled eggs was taking most of his focus. Cas pulled out his phone.

"It's 8:45."

"I have to get to class, like fifteen minutes ago. Can you guys walk back?"

"We'll be fine. Don't worry about breakfast. I got it." Sam said as he waved away Dean's wallet.

"Thanks, man. I'll see you tonight."

"Don't be late."

"I'll do my best."

"Have fun."

"With my dad and the kids in the same room? It'll be like an amusement park."

"And turn down the snark."

"Yes, _mom_."

Dean drove the college, jockeying for a reasonable parking space. He jogged through campus and only managed to be a few minutes late. As luck would have it, it was one of his last big lecture classes and the professor didn't even look up from his lecture notes when Dean came in.

Dean went through his classes on autopilot. He knew he'd hate himself when finals came along and all his notes from today were useless. He couldn't help that the nerves were distracting him. His family, the parts that mattered at least, were all going to be in the same room for the first time in four years. He had wanted this to happen, maybe not until the kids were a little older and certainly not while John was in a hospital bed, but it was what he wanted. Now that he was actually faced with the reality of it all he could think about were the ways it could go wrong. He knew John wouldn't be drunk and in itself was a big enough blessing. The kids could be afraid him though, or change their minds; John could be in too much pain or he could say something about Mary. Dean could panic and not be able to facilitate the meeting.

He talked himself down. He was showing up half an hour before the kids would be there to be sure John was still ok to see them. He called Leah at lunch and she had reassured him Anna was bouncing with excitement and Balthazar was curious about finally getting to meet John. Everything would be alright. They were going to get to be a family for a few hours.

Three-thirty on the dot found Dean pulling into the hospital parking lot.He made his way upstairs, waving at Dr. Morgan as he passed her. He always had to hesitate outside John's door, a habit he had learned from never quite knowing what he was going to find behind it.

John grinned at him when he entered the room. He was still very obviously injured, but he was doing better. Healing, and Dean suspected a good chunk of that healing wasn't physical. Maybe they would get to be a family again for longer than just today.

"Hey Dad."

"Hey Dean."

"How're you feeling today?"

"Sore. Ready to get this tube out of my chest."

"Yeah. Tomorrow. The kids will be here soon."

"I'm excited. It's been too long since I've seen them. And it's my fault, but I think I'm just realizing how much I miss them."

"I know. I guess Balthazar is kind of nervous. He doesn't remember you. I don't think Anna has even seen you sober, and-"

"Dean, I know. Balthazar is an artist, he has your mother's eyes, which I'm not supposed to mention**,** and he's shy. I'm supposed to tell Anna if she hurts me and ask about her soccer tournament next week. I can handle this."

"I know. I'm just nervous. That you aren't ready or they aren't. This is the first time we've all been in the same room in years and you're in the hospital."

"Are you ready for this, Dean?"

"I've been waiting for this for years."

"Then try not to worry so much."

"Right. Deep breaths."

"There you go."

"I'm going to wait for them outside."

"I'm not going anywhere. Couldn't even if I wanted to."

"Thanks. For agreeing to see them."

"I want to see them. Don't know how many times I have to say it. Go wait for them."

"Right." Dean walked out of the room. He forced himself to stay casual. His pacing up and down the hall was doing nothing to give even an illusion of calm. When he saw Anna and Balthazar walking towards him with a forced subdueness he let out a breath. They were here and this was really going to happen.

"Hey guys."

"Hi Dean." Anna shuffled away his attempt at a hug, but Balthazar went and grabbed his pant leg. Dean ignored Anna's rebuff and picked up his brother. He smiled in greeting at Leah who nodded towards the waiting room.

"You guys ready?" Balthazar nodded into his neck.

"I've been ready for a long time."

"Ok, Dad has some scary looking tubes coming out of him and he still hurts, but he's really excited to see you."

"We know, Dean. I already talked to Balthazar. Can we go before he changes his mind?"

"Yeah."

Dean smiled at her impatience. He took a deep breath before he opened the door with the hand not supporting Balthazar. His brother's fingers touched the side of his throat in reassurance. The look on John's face when he saw his youngest children was worth all the worrying he had done and the black eye he was currently sporting.

"Daddy!" Anna cleared the room in a matter of seconds and stopped immediately at John's bedside. His hand went to the top of her head.

"Anna, hi. God, you're so big."

"You haven't seen me in a long time."

"That's true. Maybe not so long next time

"Leah said I have to be careful because you're hurt. I already knew that though. We were supposed to have a weekend with Dean, but you got hurt so we had to come here instead. We had to go home early so Dean could take care of you."

"And he did a good job of it too. I'm getting better."

"Oh that's Balthazar. He's nervous because he doesn't remember you since he was so little when we went to live with Leah and Steve. I tell him stories about the good stuff, but he still thinks you won't remember him."

"Course I remember him. Spunky kid. Dean says he can draw."

"Hi." Balthazar picked his head up out of Dean's shoulder and looked at John when he spoke.

"Heya."

"Can you put me down**,** Dean?"

"Yeah buddy." Dean figured things were going so well this far that he could get away with putting Balthazar down on the foot of John's bed. They both looked at him curiously, but looked at each other, almost surprised when Balthazar put a hand on his ankle.

"I'm sorry I don't remember you. I made you a get well card though." Balthazar handed him the piece of paper he'd been clutching.

"A zebra, huh?"

"Anna said your hair was black and white so I thought of a zebra. Do you like zebras?"

I can't say I've ever known one." There was a genuine smile on John's face that hadn't been there for years.

"You're silly. You can't know a zebra."

"Sure you can. No zebra has the exact same stripes as another."

"Really?"

"And most of the things that eat them can only see in black and white so they can't tell a single one apart when they're in a herd."

"Things that eat other things are called predators and the thing that gets eaten is called prey. I learned that in school last month," Anna provided.

So the conversation continued, John asking his children about school and their hobbies. He learned Anna excelled in math and played in one of the best pee-wee soccer leagues in the state. They had a tournament for the spring championship over the next several weeks. He heard about Balthazar's art teacher, the one he took lessons with and how she was ready to start teaching him charcoal even though he was only six, and that he loved reading. He was reading _The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe_ and loved the series so far. Before they knew it hour and a half had passed.

"Hey guys, Dad has surgery tomorrow and needs to rest."

"A few more minutes. I can manage a few more minutes."

"You need to rest and these guys have a long drive home."

"Dean, please."

"I'm gonna run to the bathroom, then it's time." As Dean walked away he heard them laughing halfway down the hall. On his way back, Leah stopped him.

"They about ready?"

"Yeah. I was just getting them."

"They sound happy."

"They are. It like having my family back, even if only for a couple hours."

"Dean, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Your dad. John, he has a name, God. Do you think he'll fight to regain custody once he gets out of here?"

"He says he wants to change, to try to be a part of their lives. If he manages to stay away from the damn bottle he might be able to, but I don't see him fighting for custody. Even sober he can barely take care of himself and he has a long road ahead of him, and well, Balthazar has my mom's eyes."

"Right. It's just Steve and I can't imagine giving them up. To anyone that's not you**,** at least. We know you won't cut us out of their lives."

"Of course not. You guys, you've raised them. You love them like your own and you took them both. You're a part of their lives."

"Thank you."

"I'm going to go get them."

"Right."

When Dean stepped in front of the door he listened to the giggled coming from inside and he knew, for once, what he would find when he opened his father's door.

"Alright. Leah wants you back."

"But," Anna began.

"No buts. You'll see him again."

"Dean."

"Go with your brother, Anna. I'll be here." John was firm.

"Dean," Anna said again.

"Anna, stop arguing."

"But Dean." Anna sounded well and truly desperate.

"Anna what?"

"I don't think his gown is supposed to be red."

"Shit. Dad you're bleeding." Monitors started beeping insistently and the room was flooded with various people in scrubs.

"Sir, we're going to need you to step outside."

"Right. Of course. Anna, Balthazar." Dean felt two small hands grasp onto his own and he backed out, eyes riveted to the gray form on the bed.

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. Major technical difficulties on both my end and my beta's ( I spent two weeks thinking my novel was entirely gone, to give some perspective). However we both have a functioning computer now, so things should be back to normal shortly. Thanks for sticking with it.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Warning: This chapter contains some DubCon. Proceed with caution if it's iffy for you.**

"Hey Sammy." Dean bit into his lip, hard enough to make it bleed. He had reassured his siblings they didn't do anything wrong, and then Leah whisked them away, his promise to call when he knew something dying in his throat. He sat in the waiting room, feeling pale, before remembering his promise to be home for dinner.

"What happened? Did something go wrong?" Dean found himself absurdly grateful Sam could tell something was wrong from a few words.

"No, no the visit went great. My dad, he started hemorrhaging. I figured I should call- I'll probably be spending the night here."

"We're on our way. We'll bring dinner. Hey, Cas, grab the Tupperware."

"You guys don't have to. I know Cas needs to be with Rebel right now and stuff."

"It's in the- here, Cas you talk to him."

"Hello, Dean."

"You guys don't need to come!"

"Do you want us there?"

"Yeah, of course. Leah just kinda took the kids and I have no idea what's going on with my dad. There was a lot of blood and they took him to surgery. I'm goin' out of my mind here, Cas."

"Then we're coming."

"What about Rebel?"

"My son is still small enough to be fairly portable. I took care of getting a lawyer this morning and I can spend time with Rebel in a waiting room almost as easily as I can here. We're coming, Dean."

"Thank you."

"We'll see you soon."

Dean sat. He tried not to worry. Everything had been going so well. Too well, for it to be his life. He had just decided to accept it. He took a moment to be grateful to Ellen and Bobby who were not only keeping a roof over his head, but were gracious enough to understand his situation and allow him to take off on short notice.

His mind clicked things into place with a sudden clarity, no doubt brought on by stress. He would have to ask Sam to be sure, but he realized he had heard Ellen's name before. He didn't know a lot about her past- had never thought to ask about what she had done before she opened the Roadhouse. All he knew was she had left a stressful job in the public sector and never looked back. He got the feeling the Ellen he worked for was also Sam's mystery contact.

Sam and Cas showed up not long after and sat on either side of him. They forced him to eat, but otherwise remained quiet. Cas silently handed him Rebel when he reached for the baby, and Rebel's grip around his fingers kept him grounded. By the time two hours had passed**,** Dean thought he was going to go out of his mind with worry.

"I think I'm going to hire the PI," Cas said.

"What?" Dean turned to look at Cas. He was grateful that someone had broken the thick silence in the room but it was the single strangest opener he could think of at the moment.

"Henricksen. I think I'm going to hire him. Turner agreed to take my case pro bono and maybe Henricksen can dig something up. Help my case."

"Sounds good. I'll get his info from Ellen when we get home." Dean was glad Sam seemed to be able to keep up with everything.

"What's the name of the bar Ellen owns anyway?" Dean figured now was as good a time as any to get things cleared up.

"Does it matter?"

"Just think I might know her."

'It's called the Roadhouse."

"I knew it."

"You know the Roadhouse?" Sam sounded very confused by that.

"Yeah. I work there."

"Oh, God. How did we not put that together sooner?"

"Well, if you would ever actually talk about the past."

"Hey, now." The banter was friendly despite treading into potentially sensitive waters. The waiting room door creaked open, and a rush fell over the room. Dean didn't want to look up, in case it was her.

"Mr. Winchester," Dr. Morgan began.

"Don't. Please don't."

"We did everything we could. The damage was too extensive."

"He was getting better. He was going to quit drinking."

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

Dean could tell her words were genuine. That perhaps she had actually grown to care for his father. He couldn't find the words to express it. Cas sensed his distress and placed a hand on his harm. Dean found himself placing a hand over it, needing the solace of human contact.

"What do we need to do?" Sam asked.

"He'll be moved to the morgue shortly. You'll need to claim his body within twenty-four hours or the state will give him a pauper's burial."

"Right, so uh," Dean tried to find words.

"Go home, Mr. Winchester. Let your friends take care of you and help make arrangements. And for the love of God, try to get some sleep."Dean nodded. Cas handed him a tissue.

"I'm fine."

"You're crying." Dean allowed his hand to drift to his face and was surprised to feel wetness on his cheeks. He took the tissue.

"Thank you for trying."

"It's my job."

Dean forced a smile. Dr. Morgan slipped out of the room and Dean stood. He felt like he was leaving part of himself there. Sam and Cas walked on either side of him as they left the hospital and he tried not to make it obvious he was leaning into Sam a little.

"I'll come back in the morning with you to claim the body," Sam offered.

"Thanks. Can you drive? I need to call Leah."

"It's late."

"They need to know. Leah can decide whether or not to wait 'til morning to tell them."

"Ok. Keys?" Dean tossed him the keys and dialed. Cas went to his own car.

"Hey, Leah. Yeah, I know what time it is." Dean paused, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "Listen, it's important. My dad didn't make it." There was a pause Sam knew was Leah offering condolences. "Tell the kids in the morning or whenever you're ready. Just make sure they'll get the chance to say goodbye. Good night. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Dean hung up the phone and stared at his hands. God, he wasn't a crier. He was Dean freakin' Winchester. He didn't cry when his mother left. He didn't cry the night he came home to find John half-dead in a puddle of vomit and two sick kids, crying, one with an exploded diaper. He didn't cry the first time he left school to bail his father out of the drunk tank or the day social services came. He didn't cry when he became a legal adult at sixteen and had all the responsibility in the world placed on him. He wasn't going to cry now because the man who made his life Hell was dead. He stared out the window, watching gas stations and box stores fly by in a haze of neon. Sam pulled into a residential area and parked.

"Let it out," he said.

"What?"

"Let it out. I can tell there's something you're holding back, so scream, cry, hit the dash. Do whatever it is you need to do; I won't tell Cas. Just let it out."

Dean felt the tears well up and over despite himself. He knew he would hate himself once he got a few hours of sleep in him. Right now though, somehow in the car, with no one but Sam it simply didn't matter. A sob escaped his chest and as soon as he lost that first bit of restraint he lost it all.

It felt like every time he should have cried since he was fourteen- every time he was helpless, betrayed, hurt** - **started to be felt. He looked at Sam desperately through racking sobs, trying to communicate he was powerless to stop it.

Sam got the message, and pulled Dean tight against him. Little by little grief began to slip into some of the tears. Not grief for the loss of the man John was, but the fact that Dean would never know if he could be the man he was going to try to be- if he really was going to turn over a new leaf- and for his siblings who would never know the man he had been before Mary left their family in shambles. He wasn't angry anymore. He had let the anger go in that social worker's office when he was sixteen.

He, for reasons he couldn't place thought of the psychology class he had taken his last year of high school. The five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance popped back into his head for the first time since he had taken the test. He had come to the private conclusion he had been mourning John for a very long time. He was at depression. Suddenly, he jerked his head up from where it had been buried in Sam's shoulder.

"I have to call Henry."

"Alright?"

"He's my older brother. I don't know if I ever mentioned him. He's two years older and he was gone as soon as he turned eighteen. The kids got taken not long after. He doesn't know anything that's happened. I have to bring him up on four years of Winchester family drama. He's gonna blame me, want to know why I wasn't driving Dad, why I don't have the kids back yet. God, I've failed."

"Slow down. It's late."

"I can't. I mean it's my fault. It was my job and I always failed at it. That's what he said." Dean felt another round of tears coming on and they felt a little hysterical at this point.

"Dean, this is a seriously shit set of circumstances."

"Exactly. You know that. I know that. What am I supposed to do? I don't know the first thing about planning funerals. I don't think I've ever been to one. And Henry will be a mess, and God, Sam I've known you three months and you've been a better brother to me than he was in sixteen."

"I've done it. Planned a funeral. Well, helped, technically. It's not too hard. Did your Dad have a church?"

"No, but he still had the burial plots him and Mom bought. And there's this church on third Mom took us to when we were little."

"Alright so we'll have the service there. And I assume you'll do the eulogy." Sam took in Dean's red, swollen eyes. He realized Dean was still clutching his forearm. "We can talk about it tomorrow. After we claim the body."

"Ok." Dean seemed willing to go along with whatever Sam said. It also seemed like he had finally cried himself out.

"You ready to go home?" Sam asked the question carefully, not wanting to push, but also knowing it was more early morning now than late night**,** and several hours sleep would probably do Dean good.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

"It's ok if you aren't."

"We can't stay here forever. I can't hide forever."

"Home then."

"And responsibilities tomorrow?"

"And responsibilities tomorrow," Sam confirmed.

Sam drove, the past few days finally catching up to him. He could feel the exhaustion creeping into his eyelids and was relieved when they pulled into Dean's usual parking space. Dean was rest his head on the glass of the passenger window, obviously drifting. Sam roused him and got him into the apartment. Cas was sitting up, waiting.

"Hey. Just making sure you guys got home before I turned in."

"Thanks."

Cas was far too sleepy to question what had taken so long. He hadn't slept in more than twenty-four hours. He just nodded and shuffled off to his room, plopping face first onto his bed.

"You ok?" Sam asked.

"Not really. I just need some sleep. I'll be able to think in the morning." Dean stalked off to bed, closing his door.

"Right." Sam went into the kitchen, surprised when he saw Gabriel sitting at the table.

"Hey."

"Hey. What are you doing here?" Sam bent down to quickly kiss him.

"Well, I was invited for dinner, but whenI got here there was an open door to an empty apartment. My dear brother didn't evennotice me sitting here."

"Shit. I'm sorry I didn't call. We kinda ran out of here. Dean's dad died tonight and that was a distraction." Sam sat down heavily next to him.

"It's fine. Just be glad I'm the one that found the apartment open. Sounds like the last thing you guys needed to today was getting robbed." Gabriel stood up from his chair and straddled Sam, kissing down his neck, nipping at his collarbone.

"Yeah, that would've sucked." Sam's hands went to Gabe's slack clad hips.

"I have to go out of town for a couple of days."

"No."

"I'll be back in time for the funeral."

Sam dragged Gabriel's head down to kiss him properly, licking into his mouth.

"No. Stay here."

Gabe let out a low groan. "Here's what's going to happen." He paused for another kiss. "I'm going to make us feel incredible, right here on the kitchen floor, then I'm going to leave because I have a flight in five hours."

Gabriel took Sam's face between his hands and kissed him deeply. Sam happily returned the kiss, burrowing his hands under Gabe's shirt, pulling it out. Gabe got the message and shrugged out of his suit jacket, dropping it to the floor. Sam mouthed at Gabe's neck, sucking at this pulse point. Gabe threw his head back, but his hands worked under the hem of Sam's shirt, hitching it up. Sam pulled back with a quiet pop to allow the shirt to be pulled over his head.

The shirt was tossed to the ground and they resealed their mouths together. Gabe's hands worked up and down Sam's back, feeling the muscles coiled with tension there. His hand wrapped around to the front, running over the ridges of his abdomen and up his pecs, wrapping around his neck, strong shoulders beneath his palms.

As he did that, Sam's hands worked the buttons on his shirt, desperate for skin-to-skin contact. Sam pushed the shirt off Gabe's shoulders and kissed the freckles decorating them. Gabe rocked his hips down, trying to get some friction. The chair creaked dangerously.

"Floor, before we break the chair," Sam grunted out.

Gabe got to his feet and yanked Sam up- leaning up to kiss him, hands tangling in his long hair. Sam groaned when Gabe tugged. They lowered themselves to the floor, and Sam found himself pushing against the smaller man beneath him. Sam rocked against his hip, feeling the other man's clothed erection staining against his zipper.

Sam wrapped his mouth around a nipple as he worked the fly of Gabe's slacks open. Gabe arched up, moaning.

"Shh. They'll hear."

"Just don't stop."

"That can be arranged," Sam whispered as he yanked down the pants and boxers in one go.

Sam shucked his own jeans and moved his lips along Gabe's jaw line. His hips eventually canted down of their own accord and forced him to bite back a moan that threatened to escape him as their dicks brushed.

"Sam, quit teasing. Thought this was supposed to be a quickie."

"Yes, sir." Sam barely managed to keep the smile out of his voice as he began kissing his way down Gabriel's body. He paused right below his belly button and sucked a hickey into the flesh. Gabe's hands tangled in his hair, trying to push him down farther. Sam looked up.

"You want something?" Sam licked a stripe across Gabe's hips.

"Want, need you to suck me."

"Hmm…. Ok."

Sam dipped his head down and pulled the head of Gabe's cock into his mouth, sucking gently. He tongued at the slit, pulling drops on pre-come into his mouth. Gabe groaned quietly above him. Sam pulled his lover's hands back into his hair, and using a trick he had learned a week before, gripped his thumb in his left fist and let Gabe take control of the blowjob.

Gag reflex controlled, Sam groaned when Gabe began thrusting into his mouth in earnest. The vibration went down through his body. He palmed himself through his boxers, desperate for some relief. Gabe gave a few more thrusts before moving his hands, trying to pull Sam off. Sam shook his head, and swallowed Gabe back down resuming his previous rhythm. A few minutes later Sam was swallowing strands of come. He pulled off with a pop, licking Gabe clean.

He stood and hauled Gabe, still unsteady on his feet, and pulled him against his chest. He savored the feel of the smaller man against him, body still quaking with aftershocks. Sam was beyond ready for bed. He would have to get his relief tomorrow morning in the shower or he was going to pass out.

"Your turn, kiddo."

"I'll take care of it. Go get some sleep before you have to be at the airport."

"Sam," Gabe protested.

"It's fine. Go before I change my mind." He was trying to be as gentle as possible.

Gabriel hesitated for a moment before reaching into Sam's boxers and gripping his shaft firmly. He gave a few smiles then an experimental flick of his wrist. Sam's hips jerked forward on instinct and he grabbed onto Gabe's shoulders for support.

"Gabe." Sam tried to be firm, pushing him away.

"Let me. Can't leave you all hard and wanting."

"It's, uh, fine." Gabe gave a few more strokes, and Sam knew the only way to get rid of him was to just let him. Apparently what he wanted didn't matter. "Uh, ok, ok. Just hurry."

Gabe jacked him slowly, rolling his balls between his fingers and teasing him with the edge. Sam stood there, eyes glassy, biting his lips, waiting for his body to do its thing. Eventually Gabe began to pick up speed and Sam let out a low gasp as he spilled over Gabriel's hand. Gabe pulled his hand out of Sam's boxers and wiped the sticky seed off on Sam.

"That was fun. I'll see you around yeah?"

"Yeah." Gabe dressed and slid out the door. Sam stood there, feeling betrayed and used.

A few minutes later he slid into bed, fighting the urge to shower Gabe's scent off him. He forced his mind to clear so he could drift off in relatively peace. He was awoken a little after seven by a pounding on the door.

"Castiel Novak, open up! Police!"

Sam rolled out of bed and opened the door on the instinct. He knew why they were here and he wanted to make them go away. He couldn't even send Cas crawling down the fire escape.

"Morning," Sam grunted out at the two officers clogging his doorway.

"Is Castiel Novak here?"

"What do you want from him?'

"We have a warrant for his arrest."

"Why?"

"We can't share that information at this time."

"I'll go get him." Sam sighed, making no secret of his displeasure.

Sam found Cas in Rebel's room, comforting the baby who had been woken by the knocking.

"Cas, I'm so sorry."

"Turner and I talked about this. That they might arrest me today. I'll be arraigned Monday, probably, plea not guilty."

"We'll call Turner, and Henricksen I guess."

"Thank you, Sam."

"We'll see you soon. We'll take care of Rebel."

"I know. I suppose I should go."

"Yeah. Good luck." Sam wrapped Cas in a brief hug.

"Thank you." Cas put a hand on top of Rebel's head as a way of saying goodbye. He took a deep breath and walked to the living room. Sam watched from the mouth of the hallway and he felt Dean come up behind him.

"Castiel Novak, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you."

Sam heard the click of metal handcuff closing and the dull thunk of the door. Rebel started crying and Sam followed Dean to the nursery to settle him and get ready for the day. His life was falling apart.


End file.
